Dov Viing Bo
by GunslingerShota
Summary: In the midst of civil war, a boy who remembers little of his past, discovers that he is the mythical Dragonborn destined to save Nirn from the dragons. But forces from the past that go beyond the prophecy foreshadow a forgotten legacy from which he and his chosen allies must shape the very future of Tamriel. Party-based retelling of Skyrim with expanded story.
1. Prologue

Dov Viing Bo

Prologue: Dark Dawn of the Fourth Era

 **I was inspired to write this fic since 2011 after I related my experiences with Namco's "Tales" games and felt the urge to retell Skyrim with the moving social experience of a Tales game while expanding on its plot. So, presenting Dov Viing Bo (Dragon wings fly); Skyrim retold in the style of a party-based JRPG and the anime tropes that come with the package. Your perception of the Elder Scrolls will never be the same again!**

 **Disclaimer notice: I don't own the Elder Scrolls franchise or any related property except my OC's. If I did though, Skyrim's story would've been more awesome.**

 **Note to readers: since "shift+enter isn't helping helping me space paragraphs, I will use "x's" to space paragraphs and horizontal lines to change locations and POV's**

 **For your reading pleasure I'll add labels to music suggestions that I think best fits a particular situation in certain segments of the story barring Skyrim's OST and I recommend you listen. Enjoy!**

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 **"Elder Scrolls Arena Main theme (preferably a remixed version)"**

 **(or) Legend of Zelda Windwaker Prologue - "Legendary Hero"**

"Two Centuries ago in the last year of the Third Era, Emperor Uriel Septim the Eighth and his sons were assassinated by a Daedra-worshipping cult known as the Mythic Dawn, leaving the Empire of Tamriel at the mercy of the Mehrunes Dagon; the Daedric lord of destruction.

But not all was lost. Before his death, Uriel Septim entrusted an unjustly incarcerated Argonian named Kai whom he had foreseen in his prophetic dreams with the Amulet of Kings and the task of finding his last illegitimate heir to the throne: Martin.

By crowning Martin as Emperor, the dragon fires would remain lit, and ward off the malevolent, wrath of Mehrunes Dagon and his Oblivion hordes.

Not surprisingly, this was not an easy task. The journey was fraught with peril as Oblivion gates were opening all over the continent of Tamriel. One particular Oblivion gate opened in the city- state of Kvatch where Martin Septim worked as a priest in an attempt by Mehrunes Dagon to kill him. But Kai bravely ventured into the Oblivion gate and retrieved the Sigil Stone powering the gate, effectively closing it.

Kai left Martin under the safe protection of the Emperor's loyal Samurai-like bodyguards; the Blades, but the Amulet of Kings was stolen by the Mythic Dawn.

To find it Kai cracked down and infiltrated the Mythic Dawn for solid Intel. He learned that he required certain artifacts to enter "Gaiar Alata," the dimensional, "paradise" that Mankar Camoran created for his followers when they died and became as immortal as the Daedra as a reward for their services to Dagon (at the expense of being constantly "killed" over and over again for sport by local Daedra).

Between that task Kai, Martin and allies gathered from other city states of Cyrodiil saved the city of Bruma from a Daedric invasion along with a nightmarish centipede-like siege machine coming out of the Oblivion gate in a race against the clock to close the Oblivion gate and obtain the Great Sigil stone they needed as part of the dimensional keys to "Gaiar Alata." Needless to say only half of the Oblivion Siege machine made it out of the gate before Kai closed it.

After the defense of Bruma, Kai gathered the remaining essential artifacts to open the gate to Gaiar Alata where he slew Camoran and reclaimed the Amulet of Kings.

In a last ditch effort to prevent Martin Septim's coronation and the lighting of the Dragon fires, Mehrunes Dagon opened an Oblivion gate in the Imperial City and emerged in the mortal plane in his true terrible, form of a huge, four armed, demonic giant.

Escorted to the Temple of Akatosh by Kai, Martin Septim sacrificed his mortal existence to become the Avatar of Akatosh, the dragon god of time and banished Dagon back to Oblivion, permanently keeping the dragon fires lit, but sadly ending the Septim bloodline.

Victory over the forces of Oblivion had tragically left the Empire decapitated.

From here on Kai, the Hero of Kvatch was bestowed the title of Seventh Champion of Cyrodiil and went on to accomplish other great things.

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Kai joined the Mages Guild and saved it from the return of Manimarco the King of Worms and his sect of Necromancers, with the help of Arch-Mage Traven after the latter

sacrificed himself to help him gain access to Manimarco's lair. There Kai slew Manimarco by the one cause of death his "immortality" didn't cover: drowning.

Kai became the champion of the Imperial Gladiators Arena by slaying the current reigning champion; the Grey Prince in honorable combat (not before revealing that he was the half-breed son of a vampire lord).

Kai later became Master of the Cyrodillian Fighter's Guild chapter after he sabotaged its unscrupulous rival the Blackwood Company.

There were even rumors that an Elder Scroll was stolen and of Dark Brotherhood assassinations so masterfully executed they could only be attributed to a uniquely gifted individual.

After becoming master of the Fighter's Guild, Kai married Dar-Ma, the daughter of an Argonian merchant in the city state of Chorrol whom he had rescued earlier during his travels from becoming a sacrifice in the sinister isolated town of Hackdirt.

Their married life was a happy one, until several months later the hero's way called him again.

He set out to recover artifacts belonging to the legendary Divine Crusader, helped reform the ancient order of the Knights of the Nine Divines and defeated Umaril the unfeathered; an evil Ayleid King who was freed from his imprisonment in Meridia's Plane during the Oblivion Crisis.

At the end of the year, Kai's wife Dar-Ma was expecting children. But fate once again called when Kai heard rumors of a gateway in the Niben Bay that drove all who entered it and came out insane. With a tear felt goodbye to his wife, Kai entered the portal which led to the Shivering Isles of Sheogorath, the Daedric Lord of Madness and never came out.

What happened to him remains to this day a mystery. Some say he died by hands of the denizens of the Shivering Isles or was claimed by the same madness that consumed others.

Kai, the Hero of Kvatch who had helped save Tamriel from Oblivion had been taken by it in an ironic twist of fate. Tamriel had lost both of its heroes.

The Hero of Kvatch and Martin Septim had left a lasting impact on history, but all of their achievements and sacrifice could not protect Tamriel and a leaderless Empire from the dark days to come.

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During the first century of the 4th Era immediately after the Oblivion Crisis, the Thalmor; an Altmer Fascist Party seeking to bring forth a new era of elven supremacy rose to

power by taking the credit for saving Tamriel from Oblivion, while covertly tearing the Empire apart.

The lizard-like Argonians of the swampy province of Black Marsh seceded from the Empire (thanks to a bit of "advice" from the Thalmor).

Five years later, the corrupt Temple of Vivec in the Dunmer homeland of Morrowind tried to keep their floating rock satellite, Baar Dau afloat in the absence of the God King Vivec by harvesting souls from the local populace to power its substitute flotation device, the Ingenium. But a citizen determined to save a loved one designated to be the next sacrifice destroyed the Ingenium, but at a terrible cost caused the floating rock to crash onto Vivec City.

The resulting, shockwave from the landing triggered a massive, volcanic eruption in Red Mountain, leaving most of Morrowind devastated.

The Argonians of Black Marsh itching for revenge on the Dunmer for their long history of enslaving their people, invaded and conquered what remained of Morrowind, forcing many Dunmer to become refugees or slaves. The Thalmor later took control of Summerset Isle and renamed it Alinor while in Cyrodiil, a Colovian warlord named Titus Mede took the throne of the Emperor by force after the assassination of Chancellor Ocato by the Thalmor.

At the Dawn of the Second century the Thalmor seized control of more territory, by overthrowing the Bosmer homeland of Valenwood's government via coup de 'état and once again feigned heroism to the cat-like Khajiit of Elesweyr for the return of planet Nirn's two moons, Masser and Secunda from a two year absence called the Void Nights, sowing the seeds of doubt against the Empire, and causing Elesweyr to ultimately secede as well, becoming a client state.

Around the time Titus Mede II ascended to the throne, the Second Aldmeri Dominion formed by the provinces allied by the Thalmor's schemes launched an all-out

invasion to conquer the already weakened Empire in a conflict that would be remembered as the Great War. Invading Hammerfell and later Cyrodiil from both the south and

western regions, they easily overwhelmed the local Imperial Defenses, forcing Titus Mede II and the Imperial Legion into retreat. The Aldmeri Dominion moved on to sack the

Imperial City, committing unspeakable atrocities against the people of Cyrodiil during their occupation.

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Thankfully Emperor Titus Mede II gathered reinforcements from what remained of the Imperial Legion in the provinces of Skyrim. Together they launched a successful, counter-

offensive that repelled the Aldmeri Dominion from Cyrodiil . . . but at a terrible toll.

The Empire was too weary to continue fighting and signed a treaty with the Thalmor called the White-Gold Concordant.

Reviled as an over-glorified term of surrender, the White-Gold Concordant forced the Empire to ban the worship of Talos and and relinquish a large portion of Hammmerfell. It also allowed the Thalmor enforce their laws on the provinces with an orichalcum fist, hunting down Talos worshippers and any who dared to oppose them.

The signing of the White-Gold Concordant left the Red Guards of Hammerfell and the Nords of Skyrim feeling betrayed by their Imperial Allies. Angrily, Hammerfell severed tieswith the Empire to resist Thalmor rule and civil war engulfed Skyrim to determine its independence from the Empire.

On one side of the war were the Imperial Loyalists, who felt that Skyrim should remain a part of the Empire to be ready for the next war with the Aldmeri Doiminion, the other the Stormcloaks: the self-proclaimed, "true sons" of Skyrim who fought for freedom from a perceived, decaying Empire ruled by a false emperor.

However unbeknownst to all but a few, the civil war in Skyrim and the Thalmor pulling all the strings behind the scenes was the least of Tamriel's worries, for the Elder Scrolls foretold of a much worse threat to Tamriel about to unveil, a threat as old as the Daedra if not worse.

But with it a new mortal champion whom unlike his predecessors had the power to challenge it in a battle that would make the planes of the gods tremble with reverance.

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 **As you may have figured Kai the Argonian is my player character from my play through of Oblivion. The first chapter will be coming up soon so don't forget to review or fave.**

 **please, and correct me if I got the history wrong. Until next time.**


	2. Chapter 1: Unbound

**Chapter 1: Unbound**

A Starry sky and the absence of gravity, he couldn't have asked for a more beautiful place to be. Here he was, drifting aimlessly through the shimmering void of space in relaxed bliss and marveling at how the stars pierced holes in the darkness, and appreciated the color of the nebulas adding to the spectacle. As he floated on he noticed a collective of stars in a red nebula on his right and another in a purple nebula on the left outshining all the others.

As he watched, the two bright stars from their respective nebulas seemed to be getting brighter to the point where their light began engulfing all the other stars. Suddenly both stars flashed so bright, he had to shut his eyes.

Tsubasa Chronicle OST: Ship of Fools

When he opened them his sight was greeted with pitch black, as though the flash from the stars had consumed the whole cosmos.

Looking forward he noticed what was presumably the same nebulas and their stars were still there, glowing with the same color as their respective nebulas they had inhabited in what could be described as an intricate constellation. The nebulas framed by their constellation like skeletons formed the shape of winged monsters, outlined by the stars that decorated them.

Suddenly the Nebula beasts began moving and then fighting each other unleashing bright plasma energy from their "mouths" at each other in a deadly spitting contest. He watched with nervous curiosity as the nebula beasts exchanged fiery breaths with each other, unable to connect a decisive hit on each other and with gratitude that he wasn't in the cross-fire.

Suddenly as if jinxed by his worried thoughts, his body suddenly lit up like a beacon, with an extremely bright bioluminescence that even a blind man couldn't miss. Looking up towards the nebula beasts he gaped in horror, seeing that they had noticed him. Forgetting their earlier quarrel the nebula beasts dove and flew in his direction.

He could feel terror welling up inside him as the creatures burned like comets on a direct course straight for him like hawks that had spotted delicious prey. Terrified he flailed all four of his limbs desperately trying to run, but they found no friction to move like a fish with stunted fins. Unable to get out of the cosmic apparition's path, he could only watch helplessly as the nebula beasts ripped through the blackness towards his helpless form opening their gaping maws while racing neck to neck; both seeking to overtake him first. With only one second left, he opened his mouth to scream and the masses of stardust consumed him.

Then there was nothing, but darkness and . . . a rocking sensation? This wasn't right, how could he be feeling resistance on his back with a helping of gravity? How could his senses still be functioning in his post-mortem state? Suddenly, on impulse the darkness was ripped open and he was greeted to the sight of a cloudy sky and a forest. Slowly he raised his head which felt very sore.

He raised a hand to cover his head, or both hands that to his surprise were bound together with leather straps. Quickly he took in his surroundings.

He was on a wagon train driven by soldiers filled with what appeared to be prisoners. Their wrists were bound together by tight leather bindings to substitute for traditional manacles. "They must be short on metal," he thought and then he looked at the repulsive prisoner rags he was wearing. "And on wardrobe" he added.

"Hey you, boy in rags, you finally awake?" asked a blonde man with a braid on the left of his middle, parted hair on the opposite bench of the wagon. The man wore a quilted tunic with elbow-length, chain mail underneath where the quilt ended at his shoulders. The tunic also was covered diagonally with a green cloak, with the addition of two belts strapped around it in a criss-cross pattern.

"What's going on," the boy asked confused and anxious.

"What's it to you? Were prisoners of war," the man answered.

"War, what war" he asked.

"Civil war in Skyrim boy, do you live in a cave?"

"Then what am I doing here, what am I guilty of?"

"Wrong place, wrong time, you picked a bad day to be near the border, then again so did we. If you had been there, you wouldn't have been caught in that Imperial ambush, young lad."

"Ambush," the boy in question inquired,

Yes the ambush which is the reason you and I are being carted away in Imperial bondage and why your head s bleeding."

The boy instinctively reached both of his bound hands stroked his head which elicted a wave of burning pain, then he brought them to his face to see them covered in half-dried blood. The man was telling the truth!

H was very bewildered; he couldn't understand or remember how he had gotten here and why. However, he was more curious as to why he was here.

"Why were you crossing the borders in the first place, you a runaway?" asked the Stormcloak. "I, UUGH," the boy grunted as another wave of pain swept over his head from his head injury. "I don't remember why I was crossing the border, gods I don't even remember who I am."

"You must've been hit really hard to forget yourself, judging by that bloody bump on your head," said the Stormcloak. "And I can tell you're not an associate of that horse thief the imperials brought along for the ride."

Both the enigmatic youth and the soldier looked to the back of their wagon to see a scruffy looking, brown-haired prisoner with a widow's peak who was less composed than the former two, and wore the same underappreciated attire as the boy. On the wagon bench adjacent to him and on the right was another man, gagged but dressed in a more dignified manner. He was blonde and long haired like the Stormcloak soldier but, with two braids behind his ears and his bangs slicked back revealing his forehead. His attire consisted of black pants, metal plated boots on his feet with matching bracers on his hands. Most notable was his fur-trimmed Jacket with a large mass of fur covering his shoulders. He would've asked him his name and about the gag if the horse thief hadn't interrupted.

"Damn you Stormcloaks, everything was nice and lazy, till you screwed things up, if the Empire wasn't hunting you I would've taken that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell."

"We're all brothers in binds" retorted the Stormcloak.

"If that's the case I think an introduction is in order." the boy recommended.

"Oh sorry for neglecting that," apologized the Stormcloak, "I'm Ralof of the Stormcloaks and the man next to you is none other than Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

"You're the leader of the Rebellion?!" exclaimed the thief. "If they've captured you then . . . Oh gods they're not taking us where I think they are?"

"I'm afraid so" replied Ralof grimly, "at least Sovrngarde awaits." "No!" the Thief panicked "this can't be happening." Upon hearing that, the boy's felt a chill rush through his veins as the prospect of a gruesome execution began to flood his already nervous thoughts.

"Tell us your name," Ralof replied, and what village you were born in," he added. "Why should you care?" snapped the Thief.

"A nord's last thoughts should be of home," answered Ralof. "Is it too much to ask when you're walking towards death's door?" The thief took a moment to consider and finally granted his request. "My name is Lokir, I'm from Rorikstead. We're not going to be executed just for being caught with you," Lokir asked nervously.

"Oh hope not for both your sakes. If you're lucky, they'll hear your side of the story and make you serve out your sentences for whatever slight they can charge you with, or have you indentured to stable duty.

As for you boy," Ralof's shifted his tone turning darkly humorous. "I think the Imperials will find use for you in the barracks . . . very intimate use."

The boy blushed nervously, not liking what Ralof was implying. "Why would they wanna "use" me like that?"

"If you looked in a mirror kid, you'd know why some people with untrained eyes would mistake you for a girl at first glance," input Lokir with sarcasm.

Before the boy could retort at Lokir's snide remark, the rising sun abruptly blinded everyone as the wagons arrived at the town of Helgen indicated by a sign.

As they got closer to the gate with an overhead platform above it, they could hear the imperial soldier on the catwalk yelling "General Tulius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"

"Good," replied a gruff voice that was scratchy, but assertive enough to indicate authority.

"Let's get this over with."

As the wagons passed through the gate with the overhead catwalk, Lokir begged fearfully of the Nine Divines for a miracle to get him out this likely fatal predicament.

After the wagons passed through the gate the Prisoners looked to the right of their wagon and saw a man mounted on a horse clad in red, imperial armor fancier than the standard, tunic-style armor with gold trimmings, conversing with an important, looking male Altmer who was also on a horse escorted by two bodyguards clad in shiny, elven armor.

"Look, it's General Tulius, the military governor sucking up to those Thalmor pricks," spoke Ralof with contempt in his voice. "They must have helped set this all up." "Thalmor" struck a familiar chord within the boy's mind and with it, some subconscious empathy for Ralof's hate. Somehow he felt he should be in disgust for these "Thalmor" like Ralof.

As the wagons passed to the left road through town, Ralof recalled memories of his time with an ex-girlfriend and commented on the irony of how imperial walls used to make him feel safe. When the wagons rounded a curve through town they passed a house where the boy saw a father ushering his preteen son inside with a concerned tone that translated to "you don't want to see what is going to happen next," and his fears became increasingly incensed.

The wagons came to a halt at a fortress wall at the end of town and all the prisoners could see the dreaded chopping block before a guard tower, with a blood-caked, wooden box in front of it where countless heads had met their final destination. Guarding the area was over a dozen imperial soldiers in skirted armor looking forward to the sight of their enemy's heads rolling.

"Why are we stopping," asked Lokir fearfully, his dread matching the boy's.

"What do you think?" answered Ralof sarcastically. "End of the line."

The boy nervously but, trying to stay composed took another look at Ralof,

"Ralof wh-whatever happens, i-it was nice knowing you for even a split second without knowing myself."

"Same with me boy, now come on we cannot keep the gods waiting."

As they got off the wagons, Lokir franticly shouted, "No, wait! I'm not with the rebels!" "Face your death with dignity like our young friend here, horse thief" patronized Ralof.

But Lokir wasn't having it. "You've got to tell them that this is a mistake I'm not with you!" Lokir panicked but, his pleas fell on deliberately deaf, ears.

The boy and the prisoners then faced two Imperial soldiers wearing tunic armor like the others. On the right, was a muscular, brown haired, nord clad in a slightly upgraded, variant of the standard Imperial, armor that had a patch of chain mail around the shoulder area, holding a paper and ink feather to list the names of the soon to be headless, detainees. Judging by the grim look on his face he wasn't very happy about his job. The other soldier on the left was a tan-skinned scowling, female who contrasted the soldier in almost every way with her more glamorous looking, steel armor and a scowl that made one wonder if years of boot camp, hazing had left her with a bad, attitude. Her metal armor and matching, dorsal-crested helmet indicated her to be high in rank but, by the cold look on her face, painfully short on sympathy.

"Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time."

The boy glanced to the left where he saw the adjacent wagon fully unloaded of the rest of the Stormcloak prisoners whose names were also being listed in books via ink feathers by Imperial soldiers.

"Empire loves their damn lists, like big game, trophies!" growled Ralof in disgust.

"Get on with it Hadvar!" impatiently ordered the Captain to the hesitant, nord soldier with the list.

Signing the prisoner's names, Hadvar grimly announced them with each entry, first up was, "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

With those words the Jarl walked to what looked to be certain death after Hadvar finished announcing him.

"It has been an honor Jarl Ulfric," said Ralof solemnly before Hadvar then called his name and he followed Ulfric.

Next was, "Lokir of Rorikstead." Lokir finally lost it; he was going to be sent to the chopping block labeled as a Stormcloak without due process.

"I'm not a rebel you can't do this to me!"

Immediately after Lokir got no response the last bits of his composure melted away, he lit out like a fuse and made a break for his life.

"You're not going to kill me!" "Archers!" barked the Captain.

With that slight command an Imperial soldier in front of a Guard Tower nocked an arrow onto his bow, took aim at the fleeing horse thief and let it fly. Everyone watched the arrow fly through the air, hearing it whistle a tune of death before it struck Lokir's back reaching right through the heart, killing him before his body's journey ended on the ground like a string less marionette. He never made it past the inn, adjacent to the guard tower.

"Anyone else feel like running?" half-taunted the Captain, undoubtedly relishing in the "point" she made in front of the prisoners.

Indeed, every prisoner, including the boy could tell that there was no way out without taking an arrow to (gulp) most hopefully not the knee.

"You there, step forward," Hadvar called the boy. As he walked up to the man who'd reluctantly pass out his death sentence, he mentally prayed, "Divines whatever is in your will, at the very least don't let me die without letting me know who I am."

He halted at the edges of Hadvar and the Captain's personal space and made direct eye contact with Hadvar. But to his surprise Hadvar looked at him with awe as though he just saw one of the divines in the flesh and asked in an awed and somewhat timid voice.

"Who . . . are you?"

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Hadvar breathed a sigh of despair having announced Ralof's name earlier, sending his childhood, friend to the chopping block and watching Lokir the unlucky horse thief from Rorikstead get arrowed to death trying to escape. Ever since He signed up with the Imperial Legion, spilling the blood of his fellow nords was the last thing he ever wanted including, Ralof. Now he was enslaved to his tragic, duty to send him to his death along with Jarl Ulfric and several other Stormcloaks whom he and some of his fellow soldiers respected for their well-intentioned, cause. He couldn't bear to look either of them in the eye, especially Ralof. If blessed with the chance by the Divines, Hadvar would've at least granted them all their more, preferred death on the field of battle and send them happily to Sovngarde. Suspending his sympathies for the Stormcloaks, Hadvar turned his attention to the last prisoner in front of him.

"You there, step forward," Hadvar ordered.

The last, prisoner was 5'6.1 inches tall, had red hair in a typical style and his figure that was streamlined but, a long way from scrawny, and his skin was a pale-bronze confirming him to be an Imperial. Hadvar felt like the ventricles leading to his heart were about to tie themselves in knots, this prisoner was unmistakably a boy who looked to be in his late-teens to early twenties and had been unfortunate to be brought here as a prisoner and soon-to be victim in the chaos of the war. Hadvar prayed to the Divines as the boy walked up with his head lowered, that through some loophole or technicality that he would be cut loose and be allowed to enjoy life to its fullest.

But when the boy stopped and raised his head and made eye contact with him, Hadvar could not believe what happened next. The moment the red haired boy's eyes met Hadvar's the environment around him suddenly warped in a flash of light to a whole different location. Hadvar was mystified, he was not in Helgen anymore; he was in a field of flowers with a starry night sky looming above. Hadvar took a good look at the boy and imprinted it into his eyes. The boy had a uniquely handsome face that was clean-shaven, ovular, angelic with borderline androgynous features that made his gender easily mistaken to the untrained eye, and iridescent amber eyes that shone like a jewel in the deserts of Hammerfell. His parents may have kowtowed before Dibella to give him such a pretty face that could even steal the hearts of married women. But what was stranger was that the boy's attire had changed from dirty rags to a pure white, knee-length, toga worn by the ancient Imperials from the era of the Ayleids. On the boy's waist was a gold, belt adorned with intricate, carving patterns. The most notable carving design on the belt was that on both sides of the front was a design depicting a pair of dragon heads facing the center of the belt on both sides, breathing fire towards each other at the center of the belt. On the boy's neck was a matching golden, clavicle-wide, collar that had jewels embedded in the corners, but in the center was the unmistakable, Imperial Dragon insignia. Hadvar was in so much awe that he couldn't so much as speak a word, much less even form an incoherent sentence in his mind. Overall the boy's appearance could only be described as "divine!" What happened next made Hadvar's eyes widen to the rest of their extent in shock, out of the boy's back spread a pair of glowing orange, appendages wreathed in flame that could only be described as . . . wings?! Mustering enough courage to speak, Hadvar timidly muttered "Who . . . are you?"

Promptly, Hadvar blinked and to his surprise he, and the boy, were back in Helgen as if they had been stuck in a time loop. The boy looked dumbfounded at Hadvar's awed expression. Catching onto Hadvar's "tripping," he decided to try and capitalize on it with his race's imperial charm like a professional, thief throwing off guards by joking about his exploits.

Putting on his most innocent-looking face and sincerest smile, the boy answered in a casual tone, "Just an unlucky sap who wound up at the wrong place at the wrong time, which is why I got carted in here with these ruffians. As for how I ended up here, I just happened to be a spectator to that ambush that got them nabbed, until one of your friends thought I'd make a nice, "comforting," addition to their collection of prisoners in case they had a rather "crooked," fetish."

It worked; Hadvar was caught off guard by the boy's charm and voice that had a trace of upper crust accent to it, in fact Hadvar felt a bit cheered up by his sudden change from his grim to a more upbeat, feeling.

"You're a long way from Cyrodiil young man, might I ask what business does a handsome lad like you have in a warzone like Skyrim when you have plenty of hearts to steal from many a young maiden in back home," asked Hadvar."

"I would've known if your friends I met along the way hadn't bonked me on the head," he raised his bound arms to brush back his hair, revealing a bloody bump on his head to prove his alibi.

"Apart from that everything else is fuzzy."

"Amnesia, no doubt, do you at least remember something we can use to identify you," asked Hadvar.

"I'm afraid not, I-unnngh!"

The boy's sentence was cut off by an explosion of hurt where his head had been struck, but this time his mind began showing him images of a city on a hilltop, a statue of a man in presumably the city's square wielding a sword in a heroic pose and a banner with a wolf's face for a seal.

The images didn't stop there; the boy saw a younger version of himself looking at his reflection in a river who was wearing kiddy-size, leather, samurai-like armor for a childish, role-playing, fantasy shouting, "Evil-doers, wet yourselves with terror, for I am Ryuhei, lord of dragons!"

The images then abruptly ended and the boys head abruptly shot up facing Hadvar again with his eyes widened and panting as if he had woken from an intense nightmare.

"Are you all right?" asked Hadvar with concern. The boy just stood blankly staring into space with, reeling from the shock of the involuntary images he saw.

After a few seconds the boy finished processing the information from the mental images and stammered, "I'm . . . R-Ryuhei . . . from K-Kvatch."

Hadvar was puzzled at the "hard to pronounce" vocabulary of the boy's name as he was intrigued at the mention of Kvatch; a Cyrodillian, city-state that became famous for being the site of Tamriel's first victory against the Daedra during the Oblivion Crisis.

"Ree-yoo-ey?" repeated Hadvar. That is quite an unusual name."

As Hadvar commented Ryuhei snuck a brief glance at whom he appropriately dubbed, "Captain Bitch" who was tapping her foot impatiently and shooting daggers at him with a venomous glare not liking the attention he was getting from Hadvar. Ryuhei nervously decided he would have to wrap this up quickly remembering a certain fairy tale by a Breton, author with a similar premise involving a beautiful princess and a jealous queen who couldn't stand the former.

"So am I free to go," he asked hopefully.

"I'll see what I can do young man." replied Hadvar as he turned to the Captain who looked at Hadvar face to face with same venomous glare she had shot at him, causing Ryuhei to sweat with the suspense.

"Captain he has a good alibi; he has nothing to do with the Stormcloaks. From what I suspect he could be a runaway from an upper crust family. Request permission for his release?"

The Captain momentarily glanced back to Ryuhei with the same cold stare almost permanently fixed to her face toward Ryuhei who flashed a sheepish smile.

Turning back to Hadvar she coldly answered "Request denied Hadvar, he goes to the block with the rest of the prisoners."

"On what grounds Captain?"

"Spying and selling out information to the Stormcloaks."

Ryuhei was flabbergasted at the ridiculous accusation, he didn't need his whole memories to know this was a lie and he was innocent, but this behavior from Captain Janonia Pundus was nothing new to Hadvar or the soldiers under her command.

Pundus as his superior was arrogant as she was insecure and always seeking to get her way. Barring equal or higher ranking officers, she was easily jealous when someone lower on totem pole didn't follow orders or remotely upstaged her.

Two examples involved a crafty soldier who recommended new strategies and tactics derived from his hunting experience which she callously rejected and another soldier whom she discharged for "disruptive" behavior commenting he'd earn more coin as a bard.

Hadvar had little doubt that Ryuhei's attractive face and charming personality made her feel challenged as an authority, hence the made up the charges.

"He's obviously trying to playing you for a sap with that amnesia ruse and his Imperial charm. What you have here is a shameless backstabbing sell-out, an absolute disgrace to the Empire." snapped Pundus. "It explains how our patrols were ambushed with such coordination, how else do you think the Stormcloaks got the wind of our patrol routes without a pretty face and tricky mouth."

"Please be reasonable Captain." Hadvar protested as politely as possible.

"He is just a boy, not all youngsters are concerned with the struggles of their elders and your argument is purely speculation. If you believe this boy a renegade without loyalty to the Empire it's because he lives on his own terms, and whatever they maybe have nothing to do this war!"

Hadvar didn't realize it, he was speaking strongly from his heart, defending the boy vehemently with a solid, tone that if any louder would've resembled the roar of a lioness defending her cub.

The Captain twitched and her eyes slightly widened, a little shocked at Hadvar speaking out of turn. But she soon regained composure and came right back at him, hard.

"Well-spoken Hadvar, like a Stormcloak, vouch a little more for him and you'll be sent to the dungeon for treason."

The Captain didn't need to say more of the consequences to break Hadvar's will further.

"By your orders Captain," meekly responded Hadvar with deep reluctance.

Ryuhei felt like his blood had frozen and was shattered along with his hope; he was to be sent to the chopping block just for "Captain Bitch's" convenience or jealousy.

"So much for trying to charm my way out," he thought fearfully.

But he wasn't going quietly; with nothing to lose, he would brand his memory into his captor's minds as deeply possible and go out as a major pain in the ass.

"Oooooh," mocked Ryuhei as loud as he could so everyone could hear, "sounds like a certain bitch's blood is running green . . . with envy."

He momentarily paused to get a good look at the Imperial soldiers and Stormcloaks confirming he had their undivided, attention.

"Because an ironically straight, guy like me is more popular with men, than she is with the trolls!

The Imperials and especially the Stormcloaks chuckled at Ryuhei's gallows humor, but with the Captain, well he had pushed it.

Angrily the Captain walked up to Ryuhei with her teeth grit in anger and threw a right hook at him.

Suddenly as if the Divines were guiding his actions the mysterious, boy instinctively dodged the punch. The captain having never seen it coming, had put too much weight into her punch and was carried off balance by the momentum, but before she could regain her balance Ryuhen had gotten behind her and landed a kick to her back causing her to stumble forward some more.

Ryuhei didn't know what came over him but, these moves that were rushing through his head were cool, and he was going to enjoy using them to leave an impression on the crowd to be remembered as more than a pretty face at his execution.

What happened next impressed everyone; while Captain Pundus was momentarily regaining balance Ryuhei lunged sideways and twisted in midair horizontally from his lunge, like a pro gymnast.

During his midair spin he managed to wrap his legs around the captain's at both the knees and the shins effectively flinging the mean bitch of a captain face first into the snowy ground.

Ryuhei got up and to his satisfaction the imperial soldiers were laughing, several more excited soldiers applauded him for his "corkscrew, scissor, take down."

The soldier's reactions indicated that they disliked the Captain just as much as their Stormcloak counterparts and enjoyed seeing this mysterious boy put her in her place.

Ryuhei smiled seeing he had pleased the crowd.

But the respite was short-lived as the Pundus got up with her stoic exterior shattered like glass and growling with indignant, fury at her humiliation.

"You impudent brat," she yelled as she drew her gladius. "I'll teach you respect when your blood paints my blade!"

Before she could charge at Ryuhei, Hadvar strong-armed the Captain under the armpits effectively restraining her.

"Unhand me this instant," she demanded. "Captain that's enough, the Imperial Legion does not tolerate their officers displaying such unprofessional behavior."

"Nor do they tolerate insubordinate soldiers!" retorted the Pundus.

"You might want to take his advice, unless you want to embarrass yourself more in front of your men" mocked Ryuhei. The Captain did a double-take at the soldiers who abruptly stopped their laughing at her embarrassing, predicament and realized the boy's and Hadvar's point.

"Fine then," grumbled The Captain, prompting Hadvar to release her and she shouted, "Just get this refuse to the block!"

As the Captain walked to the chopping block to oversee the prisoner's executions Hadvar sadly said to Ryuhei "I'm sorry young man I've done what I could, we'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil and your head perfectly preserved."

Ryuhei sighed sarcastically, "At least that's a consolation," and walked to the chopping block with the rest of the prisoners.

Ryuhei stood between the row of Stormcloak prisoners, surrounded by Imperial Soldiers, facing the chopping block and standing in front of it was an executioner wearing similar attire to the Stormcloaks, but with a hood over his head and a white fur, loincloth and carried a crude axe with a blade that looked more like a piece of scrap metal welded to a pole. Next to the executioner on Ryuhei's right stood Hadvar as grim as before. On the opposite left was a priestess in dark yellow robes tasked with easing the prisoner's souls to the afterlife. Several more inches from the priestess was that bitch of a captain who was impatiently tapping her foot, eager to see his pretty boy, head take up residence in the crate with the rest of the Stormcloaks. However closer up to Ryuhei's left was General Tulius and Jarl, Ulfric Stormcloak, the two head honchos of both factions of the civil war standing face to face. It was a shame Ulfric was gagged (and for a good reason) or he would have more than just retorted to what General Tulius said next.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, some in Helgen say you're a hero, but last I checked heroes don't pervert the power of the voice to murder their High King so they can take the throne."

Ulfric could only growl in response behind his gag.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire will finish it by putting you down like a rabid dog!"

Suddenly, everyone heard a high, screech that sounded like nails on a chalkboard, muffled by wood, echo across the mountains.

"What was that," asked Hadvar.

"It's nothing, carry on," answered Tulius.

"Give them their last rites" said Pundus to the priestess.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius blessings of the Eight Divines– "

"For Talos's sake, just get it over with," interrupted a defiant Stormcloak as he willingly walked to his death.

"As you wish," said the priestess sarcastically.

Before he got to the chopping block the brave Stormcloak gave the priestess a threatening look that made her visibly twitch nervously as if to steel herself for the earful she knew she was about to get from the Stormcloak.

"Next time you preach about the divines to a dying man make sure you include the full set in your sermons you Thalmor whore," shouted the Stormcloak insultingly, earning a "hmph" of annoyance from the priestess.

Proceeding to the chopping block The Stormcloak kneeled before it and the bitchy; Captain stepped on his back, pressing his head into chopping position.

"My ancestors are smiling on me Imperial scum, can you say the same?" yelled the defiant Stormcloak.

His answer was yielded by the executioner's axe coming down, disconnecting his head and his soul from his body while the former came to rest in the crate.

Ryuhei winced at the grisly display, as his pulse quickened with the fear of his impending death rising with the bile in his throat. Gulping it back down, Ryuhei could only restrain the tears of fear fighting their way out of his tear ducts as the Stormcloaks exchanged curses with the Imperials.

"As fearless in death as he was in life commented Ralof." Ryuhei couldn't help envying the Stormcloak's fearlessness so he wouldn't have to hold back the tears of fright trying force their way out of his eyes knowing he was next. And he couldn't have been more right.

"Next the "pretty boy" renegade, said Pundus . Again the same screech from earlier echoed across the mountains within earshot of everyone. "There's that weird noise again," said a random guard. But the Captain wasn't having it with distractions. "I said next prisoner." Ryuhei defiantly didn't budge, still holding onto his will to live and discover his identity. "To the block boy, nice and easy," encouraged Hadvar with much reluctance in his voice. Ryuhei took one last look at Ralof, who said "Fear no death boy." Taking his words to heart Ryuhei walked to the block wearing a defiant look on his face, not willing to give the errant Captain the satisfaction of living up to her accusation of him as a sniveling craven spy without dignity. He knelt down at the chopping block glimpsing at the decapitated, head of the martyred Stormcloak and felt the rock hard boot of the Captain slam down on his back, forcing his head on the block where it would depart from his body. Turning his head left Ryuhei stared into the face of the executioner hoping his face would haunt him for life.

Suddenly, From behind the mountains a black, winged, mass swooped down and perched on the guard tower behind the chopping block, causing everyone including Ryuhei's executioner to stare up in awe and shock at a huge reptilian, creature. The creature was like a nightmare from Oblivion. Its body was pitch, black and covered from neck to tail in rows of jagged, spikes. It had a small, horn on its snout and its head was adorned with a pair of curved demonic, horns. What was most frightening was that its eyes glowed pale red with malevolent, intent, as they scanned the crowd as if looking for a its first victim until its gaze landed on Ryuhei who while terrified found his eyes locked onto the creature unable to tear them away like it had him in a trance.

He surveyed the throng of puny mortals whom in all their hubris, were shocked to see him for the first time in the few short, millennia he and his kind had been absent (in fact, said millennia lasted as long as a few seconds for him and his brethren).

Apparently He had interrupted some sort of execution involving chainmail-clad P.O.W.s along with skirt-wearing soldiers overseeing their execution.

"Mortals," He thought with disdain, "So many centuries have passed not one of them have gained wisdom, so susceptible to their base flaws and shortcomings."

Indeed it was gratifying to see these arrogant mortals fear him again. However when he lowered his line of sight towards the chopping block he suddenly found his eyes glued upon one miscellaneous prisoner who stood out thanks to his youth and red hair.

The boy in question returned his stare and their eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity. Both couldn't take their eyes from each other, it felt as if some kind powerful enchantment he was born with had put him in a trance-like state. He could've sworn he felt a mysterious, yet familiar aura emanating from the mortal boy.

However upon the confirming exclamation of his species by the tongue of a random female mortal, he snapped out of it, and back to his original task.

He took a deep breath that when exhaled sent all mortal kind a dire message; the Dragons had returned!

 **Final Fantasy X OST- Hurry! (Extended)**

"That thing," speculated Ryuhei, "It's a . . ."

"DRAGON!" yelled a female voice.

As if snapped out its trance the dragon opened its maw, inhaled and shouted in a strange language that came with a blast of what felt like an immensely strong, gale force wind that sideswiped the executioner and the boy and sent them rolling.

When Ryuhei picked himself up, his eyes widened them to their fullest extent at what he saw; total chaos! The sky above had turned into maelstrom of clouds that spit out meteors raining everywhere leaving random, buildings smashed and broken.

He also discovered that the executioner had unceremoniously landed neck first on the blade of his own ax in a sense of poetic irony.

Lifting himself up with his bounded hands Ryuhei saw Ralof who had just used the tip of the executioner's axe that wasn't buried in the latter's neck to cut the leather straps binding his hands and turned his attention to him.

"Get up boy, the gods won't give us another chance," Ralof shouted. Ryuhei got to his feet.

"Hurry this way to that guard tower," he yelled as they both made a beeline for the guard tower that loomed over the adjacent inn where Lokir bit the snow.

A meteor landed to their right spilling fist-sized, pieces of scalding, hot rocks in their way.

Avoiding the rocks and making it into the Tower, Ryuhei looked backwards outside to see the whole town of Helgen ravaged by the meteor storm for one and a half seconds before the door closed.

Inside Ryuhei was greeted with the company of Ulfric Stormcloak, a few Stormcloak Soldiers and one wounded female Stormcloak who had lost a lot of blood and looked one minute away from going into shock.

"If only I knew some healing- aarrghh," once again his head hurt from the earlier, knockout blow but once again he "remembered" exactly what he needed for the situation.

"Get back," Ryuhei ordered the Storm cloak to his female comrade.

Smiling with satisfaction Ryuhei concentrated, gathering magicka in his hands. A spectrum of apple juice colored, energy streams flowed around the injured female Stormcoak soldier sealing up her wounds.

"Thank you, I thought I was on my way to Sovngarde," she replied gratefully.

"Don't mention it, it wasn't my day to die either," answered Ryuhei who turned his attention back to a speculating Ralof and a certain rebel leader.

"Ulfric can the legends be true," he asked.

"Legends don't burn down villages," snarked Ulfric.

Ryuhei wasn't in the mood for speculation. "Well that Legend is gonna roast us or bury us alive if we don't get outta here, and I don't want this tower to be my tomb!"

"Oh he he, brilliant idea," lightly embarassed Ralof with embarrassment with at how obvious the idea was.

"We cant get out with those burning rocks in the way! Up the stairs we can jump to inn!" yelled one of the Stormcloaks.

The rest followed suit and ran up the spiral stair case. Ryuhei ran up the stairs tailing the last Stormcloak with Ralof close behind.

Suddenly when the last Stormcloak in front of Ryuhei made it to the second floor of the tower, the wall to the right was smashed inward by the head belonging to the demonic dragon, trapping the unlucky Stormcloak underneath the rubble. Then to Ryuhei and Ralof's horror the dragon gave off a scratchy, baritone, howl accompanied by a raging blast of fire from his mouth. Then the dragon's form receded, permitting rays of light to enter the tower, revealing to the enigmatic boy and rebel soldier, the grisly sight of the Stormcloak's charred and smoking bones that lay among a rocky funeral pyre.

Ryuhei gulped at the sight, glad that it wasn't him who got served well.

Through the hole they could see the Inn which was one of the least damaged buildings from the Dragon's rampage.

"Boy, see the Inn on the other side, jump across to the second floor and run like Oblivion."

"Are you sure I can make this jump," asked a panicking Ryuhei doubtfully.

"Would you prefer flambé ," shouted Ralof.

"Okay," nervously caved in Ryuhei as he backed up for a running start.

Lunging with all his might, Ryuhei leaped out of the hole and landed right on a horizontal wooden beam that supported a section of where a straw roof had been. The half-burned beam gave way under the sudden added weight and snapped, causing Ryuhei to instantly lose his balance upon landing where he rolled onto the unforgiving wooden floor.

"Arrggh" he groaned from the impact. "Gravity is a rough goddess."

He continued past furniture on the second floor and dropped down a hole in the left corner of the second floor to the first.

As Ryuhei exited the demolished, Inn through a broken section of the wall he suddenly stopped when he saw the dragon land in the middle of the brick road where he saw Hadvar, a bald man in iron armor, and a little boy hiding behind a totaled house just in time to be shielded from over ten thousand, degrees of searing heat from the devil dragon's fire breath.

Then dragon took off to find more buildings and prey.

Hadvar turned and instantly recognized the boy he had reluctantly escorted to the chopping block a minute ago. "Thank the gods you're alive, boy, stay close to me if you want that pretty face to stay unblemished!" He turned to the bald man with the younger boy "Gunnar, get Hamming out of here, I have to find Tulius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you both, Hadvar," replied Gunnar as he began to escort his young charge to the closest exit from this demolished town.

"This way," Hadvar ordered as he led Ryuhei diagonally across the brick road past a local townsman's corpse, a guard tower and between a totaled, two-story house on the right and an adjacent wall of matching height.

Suddenly the Dragon landed on the wall with its wing hanging just inches from the duo's faces as it let out another blast of fire with the same scratchy, baritone howl, incinerating an unsuspecting soldier. As suddenly as it happened the Dragon took off leaving Ryuhei wide eyed and frozen with fear, having come within close proximity of death incarnate.

The sweat dripping down his nose didn't help.

"Snap out of it boy we've got to move," Hadvar yelled.

The pair rushed through the splintered house next to the wall back onto the road, passing a pair of imperial battlemages shielding a wounded townsman, while vainly throwing fire bolts at the dragon as it flew overhead.

Hadvar and Ryuhei rounded a corner and passed under an arch to the courtyard Helgen's military barracks just as the dragon flew over the surrounding walls and in one breath, engulfed the defending, imperial archers on it in an infernal rhapsody of crackling blazes and agonized screams.

Ryuhei's stomach churned as those poor men were reduced to the same substance as the Stormcloak from the tower.

Blocking out the unlucky soldier's screams Ryuhei turned his attention back to Hadvar and fpound him arguing with a familiar face.

"Ralof, you damn traitor, outta my way!"

"Were escaping Hadvar, you wish to stop us, go ahead and try."

"No I'll see you sent to Sovngarde."

But as the two opposing soldiers were arguing Ryuhei saw the winged abomination, flapped right above them in the courtyard with its demonic eyes: fixated on making rare barbecue of its latest victims like a sadistic, angel of death.

Despite their hostility, Ryuhei could not bear the thought of the infernal and anticlimactic, death their cosmic executioner was about to present them, leaving them forgotten ashes in wind.

"Look out," shouted Ryuhei, but his shout was drowned out by the chaos surrounding him.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The dragon in Ryuhei's perception of time slowly opened its mouth, ready to claim more statistics to its already considerable body count and as it inhaled all logic left the building. The open maw of the Dragon glowed yellow from the buildup of heat that was itching to sear raw meat. Ryuhei shouted at the top of his lungs not even knowing what words he said.

Suddenly, just as the Dragon was only one second away from exhaling its infernal arsenal, a strange, blue fireball hit it squarely in the back causing it to belly-flop in the courtyard with a tremendous, ground breaking thud.

The dragon recovered from the shock of its rough landing, anger clearly written on its face and looked up at the fool who dared to spoil his kill and its eyes widened in shock.

Ryuhei and the two arguing soldiers who were arguing earlier had just noticed what had happened and looked up in awe to see the second unlikely savior of the day . . . another dragon.

This new dragon was more like a ghost; it was as transparent as ice, but shined beautifully with a blue aura and streamers of light trailing from its ethereal form like smoke. Its body had less spikes on its back, and its head was like a biological, "helmet" that was as sleek as a sports car, decorated with a row of two nasal horns on the "armored," snout and a pair of spikes on both sides of the head pointing backward. Between the spikes was a thick, triangular dorsal horn forming the back of its "helmet" that dwarfed the size of the others. Ralof, Hadvar and Ryuhei were mesmerized by the angelic beauty of the dragon that was in direct contrast to its malevolent counterpart.

One with a lick of philosophy could reason that both dragons were the incarnations of yin and yang, light and dark, life and death, good and evil.

Suddenly the angelic, dragon locked eyes with Ryuhei's and spoke in a baritone voice that would make many a maiden who'd hear it swoon. "Hi lost alok, Dovahkiin."

Suddenly as soon as it appeared the transparent dragon faded out of sight.

The black dragon turned its gaze to the mortals it was about to fry earlier, Ryuhei in particular with its eyes widened to their fullest extent as if it had received a startling, revelation from its counterpart which then narrowed as if seething angrily.

Hadvar was the first to regain his senses to take initiative. "Quick into barracks, go now!"

On cue the trio promptly made a beeline for the barracks.

Quickly they kicked open the door of the barracks, and knowing what was coming next hugged the walls behind the doors just in time to see a jet of flame rush right past them by a hair's width.

Once the infernal stream was exhausted, Ralof shut one side of the door while Hadvar shut the other, and the trio made their way to the end of the hall where there lay the corpse of a Stormcloak with blood pooling from his side next to a table with thick legs and two matching chairs.

In his deathgrip was an iron sword.

Ralof approached and made a parting eulogy. "We'll meet again in Sovngarde Brother."

Then Ralof turned to Ryuhei and Hadvar. "Looks like we're the only ones who made it," sighed a slightly relieved, Ralof.

"I don't believe were alive to swear to have seen what we just saw," panted Hadvar.

"Those were dragons, the harbingers of the End Times," finished Ralof.

"Well at least one of them," specified Ryuhei. "That other Dragon saved us, but why," speculated Ryuhei.

Suddenly the heard the ground shake followed by a roar.

"Too late ask, we'd better get a move on before that black dragon decides to bury us alive. "Come here," Ralof motioned with a steel dagger for Ryuhei to come forward, "those bindings aren't going to get themselves off."

"About time," sighed Ryuhei. Holding up his hands Ryuhei stretched his hands as far apart as the straps on his arms allowed pulling it taught.

Ralof wedged the dagger between his arms where the leather cuffs connected and in a span of around ten thrusts sawed Ryuhei's hands free.

Ryuhei rubbed his arms feeling the mark left on them, enjoying his newfound freedom. "Much appreciated," thanked Ryuhei. "Now kind sirs I believe it's time we get out of here"

"You go with Ralof, but I'm not following, my garrison duties remain," said Hadvar. "The last thing l need is to be branded a traitor to the Empire just by talking to you."

"You already have," answered a most unwelcome voice with a repulsive owner. An adjacent, wooden, gate lifted and out stepped two imperial soldiers and the bitchy Captain Janonia Pundus herself.

"Hadvar," she spoke in a dull voice that belied her sadistic anticipation. "Why am I not surprised at your treachery."

"I am no traitor captain," retorted Hadvar.

"That is some defense from where you're standing Hadvar, where should I start? Consorting with the enemy and harboring a "renegade" spy, whom are both late for their date with the chopping block, you certainly fit the bill."

"I have sworn to serve the Empire with my life . . ." Hadvar briefly glanced back at Ryuhei whose mere presence he suspected seemed to have elevated his courage, "but I never gave up my Nord honor with it. And I would not let an innocent die on a flimsy whim after all the torment you've put your own soldiers under."

"Very Stormcloak Hadvar, you always were suspicious with your "less than enthusiastic" attitude in this war." Captain Pundus and her soldiers drew their swords that gleamed with hunger for fresh meat.

Likewise Hadvar drew his own gladius, while Ralof drew a pair of iron axes and Ryuhei pried the iron sword from the late Stormcloaks cold dead fingers, and readied himself.

"Take the traitor and his friend," she ordered, "pretty boy over there is mine."

The fight was on!

 **Soulcalibur Legends Soundtrack: Lake Arena**

Imperial soldier one lunged at Hadvar with his gladius raised for a downward slash. "Die traitor." But Hadvar had quicker reflexes and parried the slash, resulting in both opponents clanging their swords, as if possessed by their weapons, both seeking to sample the sweet flavor of each other's blood.

Ralof had his hands full with Imperial Soldier two figuratively and literally with a pair of iron axes wielded in both hands.

Axes being weapons with more emphasis on muscle than mind forced Ralof to zig-zag tactics between dodging and aggressively hacking away at his opponent's defenses to hit with one axe while trying to reach his opponents exposed blind spots.

However a certain Imperial, boy stood alone against a mean, bitch of a captain whose eyes gleamed with murderous intent.

"You'll pay for making a fool out of me in front of my troops boy, I'll be sure that that pretty, face of yours will never be looked at again" she roared as she charged at him.

In defense Ryuhei raised his sword up, blocking as many swings as his panicking mind could keep up.

Pundus took advantage of his panic and not wanting any interruptions from his friends, forced him into the entrance hallway scorched pitch black by the black dragon's fire breath earlier with a barrage of thrusts that the boy couldn't block enough to keep them from nicking his shoulders.

Dodging to the left momentarily, Ryuhei retaliated with a fierce swing of his iron sword, only to be parried by Captain Pundus's gladius. Then she lunged and punched Ryuhei in his left cheek, sending him stumbling back against the wall of room.

Ryuhei landed with his back literally against the wall, but was able to gather enough of his wits to tilt his head left to avoid getting his ear shaved off from a thrust of her gladius. Ryuhei retaliated with a swing of his Iron Sword at Pundus's left sword, arm. The captain reeled back reflexively and growled when she saw that the he had left a scratch on her shiny gauntlet.

Quickly, getting back on his feet Ryuhei took a slice at Pundus while she was momentarily off guard from her armor's insulting scratch, but only managed to nick her cheek due to her dodging at the last minute.

Pundus angrily thrust her gladius out to stab Ryuhei, but he sidestepped the thrust and quickly pressed his attack, clanging swords with the captain.

Ryuhei ducked and weaved and parried several of the paranoiac captain's strikes, but when he raised his iron sword horizontally to block a downward strike the Captain flicked her wrist at the last second and swung in a crescent arc, slicing his belly roughly one inch above his belly button.

A wave of agony rushed over Ryuhei who screeched in pain.

Pundus paused, smiling sadistically to savor his agony as he clutched his wound, but was surprised to see an apple-juice colored, spectrum of magicka emanating from the boy's, free hand healing his wound.

"He knows restoration magic,'" she realized. "Well then, let's see you heal a severed head." Pundus moved in for the kill and swung her gladius in a decapitating strike to finish off the boy while he was licking his wound. But in the nick of time, Ryuhei instinctively blocked the blow with his iron sword using both hands on both sides with his right hand on the handle and his open left hand safely supporting the other end on the flat surface of the blade, and twisted her sword away from her torso leaving her wide open enough for the former to deliver a front snap, kick to her armored chest.

It didn't hurt her physically thanks to her armor, but the same couldn't be said for her ego.

Captain Pundus retaliated by letting Ryuhei push her gladius to the side again only to backhand the boy in the cheek and swung horizontally to cleave his neck. But Ryuhei managed to block it just an inch from his head.

Pundus however pressed her assault and kicked him in the stomach sending him sprawling to the harsh stone floor.

The impact sent Ryuhei's sword rolling underneath the table with several resounding, clangs. Quickly, Ryuhei instinctively reached both arms out and rolled away from what would've been a coup de grace and grabbed Pundus's arms before she could raise them for another downwards thrust. The Captain already frustrated from her failed attempts struggled to rip her arms free from Ryuhei's grip, eager to raise and sink the blade into him.

With sweat oozing between his ears Ryuhei thought back to his humiliating move he pulled off on the Pundus earlier. Twisting his body Ryuhei scissored his legs at her right leg's joints and grabbing the other leg with one hand he flung the captain right-over him. Ryuhei got back up, glad that he had thought up that move in the nick of time.

Quickly retrieving his iron sword, Ryuhei blocked slash after slash from the furious captain and got into a blade lock with their faces several inches apart.

"Not bad for a pretty-faced spy, but your tired clear as day, and your paper-weight, wrestling moves only prolong the inevitable. Give up now and I'll be forgiving enough to end it quickly, I'll even let you keep your corpse's face unblemished, like your traitorous friend promised." Ryuhei only narrowed his eyes clearly saying "no." Dying pretty was the last thing on his mind. After waking up as a nameless vagrant, getting accosted as a prisoner of a war he had no part in and having several brushes with death in one crazy day he would not be done in by a snobbish bitch of a captain before he found out who he was.

"Time's up boy" Pundus yelled with an insane look in her eyes as she pushed Ryuhei backwards and lunged at latter who tried to sidestep her and get in a clean cut only for her to catch on to his strategy and elbow him in the solar plexus, but Pundus didn't stop there. She fiercely kicked Ryuhei, sending the boy stumbling face-forward all the way toward the barracks door where he hit his head and again he felt that same surge of agony in his head again, but it instantly calmed down then he raised his head up . . . and smiled.

"Now you die boy," shouted the anxious captain as she charged at the pretty-faced, brat who dared publicly humiliate her, while his back was turned. She couldn't help picturing herself triumphantly, deforming his face as she darted in for the kill. But suddenly the boy turned and raised his iron sword which was coated with a fiery orange, glow as if fresh out a blacksmith's oven. Before Pundus could react he swung it down with a mighty heave followed by a flash of orange, shouting the last words she would ever hear; "DRAGON FANG!"

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 **As you can tell my Dovahkiin OC is a bishonen straight out of a manga. And sorry to dissapoint you Yaoi fanboys, but regardless of the prison rape implications he's straight as an arrow taken to the knee.**

 **And surprise, surprise that new dragon who sucker punched the world eater, not to mention that magic sword attack is your first hint that this not your average Skyrim fic. How is this new dragon connected to the dragonborn legend?**

 **Find out on the next chapter of Dov Viing Bo, or (voice of Red Guy from "Cow and Chicken"), EVEN MORE CHAPTERS!**

 **BTW, here's the translation of what that the new dragon said: "You have risen Dragonborn." Couldn't find any other word I could work with besides "risen" but it means pretty much the same as awakened, right?**

 **Remember a well-rounded review and proofreading is welcome. Hope you enjoyed it, until next time.**


	3. Chapter 2: Escape from Helgen

**Chapter 2: Escape from Helgen**

With a heave Hadvar managed to force his opponents shield arm to overlap over the latter's sword arm and sidestepped just in time to take a well-placed slice at his jugular vein.

The imperial soldier's eyes widened with shock as he dropped his sword and shield to cover his neck which was squirting blood like a fountain and sank onto his knees as he realized with horror that soon his life would drain away with his blood.

The Imperial glared at Hadvar with a combination of panic and rage, and accusingly pointed his index finger at him. "You gods, damned traitor, may your soul . . . (gasp) be damned to Oblivion for this!"

Hadvar could only look solemnly as the Imperial Soldier sank to the floor, twitching erratically in his death throes until the final pint of blood left his severed artery.

The rhythmic, banging of steel against wood suddenly caught Hadvar's attention and the latter looked up just in time to see Ralof sidestep the thrust of his opponent and hook the Soldier's sword with one of his iron axe's and sidestepped again till the his opponent's arm was outstretched. And with a well-placed horizontal swing, slammed his left iron axe into the back of the unlucky soldier's neck, severing the connection between disk C two and three. Death was swift and relatively painless.

Both unlikely allies made eye contact and took a few breaths, but soon realized something was amiss. "The boy," Ralof exclaimed, "The boy where is he!" "The boy," realized Hadvar. "I remember the Captain . . . oh gods!"

Both realized with horror that in the heat of the battle their young charge had been the target of the Captain Pundus.

Before they could even begin to look around, "DRAGON CLAW," yelled the familiar voice.

Instinctively the pair turned toward the entrance hallway just in time to see an orange flash and the body of the arrant Captain Janonia Pundus blown backwards by an immense force.

She smashed against the edge of the sturdy table with a sickening wet crack and fell face down on the floor limply with a puddle of blood forming from her chest.

Hadvar and Ralof gingerly rolled the corpse over and looked in a mixture of horror and wonder at the grisly remains of the Captain whom the latter's face was frozen in an expression of utter shock. She had hit the edge of the table at a perfect horizontal angle, breaking her back. Her armor had also been sliced open, clean through her skin and almost through her ribs with blood gushing out like a beer keg stuffed in an iron maiden. The injuries were enough to kill her twice.

The two rival soldiers turned temporary allies in their amazement, looked back straight towards a panting Ryuhei who was leaning on his sword like a cane.

Hadvar immediately rushed to his aid and slung Ryuhei's arm over his shoulder. "You are crazy, In all my years of service in the Legion I've never seen even the best battle mages unleash a magic spell from a sword. How did you do that," gasped Hadvar.

"I would've known if your friends hadn't given me a that nasty bump on my head. As far as I know things just keep coming to me when I need them. I guess the gods love me," answered an equally flabbergasted Ryuhei between breaths.

Indeed Ryuhei was amazed at how he was still alive against a more experienced enemy that a few minutes ago would've been watching him bleed to death on the floor. Not only was he apparently trained in grappling and restoration magic, but he was also a pretty good swordsman with a unique spell he "remembered" just when he needed it.

The spell didn't just enhance his sword strike it unleashed a blade of energy, taking the title of spell sword to its most literal definition.

"How many more surprises will you share with us," asked Ralof as he disrobed the corpse of the fallen Stormcloak whom he had given a eulogy earlier.

"Plenty when I'm finally home free enough to hit my head with a simple house hammer." remarked Ryuhei. Hadvar meanwhile had fully caught his breath.

"Ralof, as much as I should kill you now, I do not wish to dishonor the life debt the boy owes us both. It might be too much to ask, but by Nord's honor sake and as friends from the same home, please take the boy safely to Riverwood."

Ryuhei however had better ideas. "One problem Hadvar, we can't go outside this building without that dragon spotting us, and I don't think that "ghost dragon" won't be saving our hides a second time. Besides Ralof and I don't know this town well enough to make an escape that guarantees we won't get roasted alive. In other words I . . . we still need your help."

Hadvar though was hesitant with reluctance. "As a soldier of the Empire I'm obligated to my duties."

But Ryuhei struck back with a hard counter. "And among those duties is the protection of the people. You were brave enough to stand up to your captain to try to spare my life when she ordered my head for delivery, because you knew in your gut that I was not meant for the chopping block. You're a man who believes in honor and as a Nord of honor you will risk face and flesh to live it up it to save someone you know to be truly innocent as I "saved" you and Ralof from the dragon."

Ryuhei's assertive stance hit dead center in Hadvar's conscience as the barriers of reluctance were penetrated and crumbled. "I don't know what has come over me weather it'd be your regal imperial speeches or resolute manner, but magic or not you have your escort young man."

"Now that we've removed these "roadblocks," gestured Ralof to their fallen opponent's corpses. "We should make for a hasty exit. In the meantime boy, you need to get out of those dowdy clothes."

"Finally," Ryuhei gasped sarcastically. "But, first let's get to someplace say, a bit more private."

"Follow me, to the lower levels, you'll find more than privacy there," said Hadvar.

The trio walked through the hallway to their right from where they entered the garrison with Ralof carrying Ryuhei's new wardrobe "donated" from the former's deceased comrade.

Along the way they found that the main hallway had been caved in from the hammer blows of the Dragon's attack.

Thankfully Hadvar showed them a detour to a storage room with a few beds in it as if to flout the owner's monopoly on the spoils.

Ryuhei spotted several stamina potions filled with a rejuvenating green liquid.

"Just what we need, a refreshment" Ralof said as he picked up the stamina potion. "Drink up boy, your fight with the Captain has taken a toll on you."

Ralof handed it to Ryuhei. "It doesn't taste good, but a single dose will make you feel like you could lift a boulder."

Ryuhei popped the cork off and put the bottle to his lips, and carefully he took a sip. The taste was really sour and bitter, but after a gulp he could a feel an invigorating rush coursing through his veins as the potion did its work.

He gave a satisfied gasp. "You're right, this thing's got a real kick like a mule, shame I wouldn't be able to actually lift a boulder."

Hadvar then came up with three fanny packs in his hands. "Here Ralof and you boy, take these pouches and grab everything you need. It's going to be a long walk towards Riverwood. By the way "Ryuhei," did I spell that right?"

Ryuhei nodded yes.

"Since you're not into men, I'd recommend you go behind that column in the middle of the room and start changing now, wouldn't want you to carry the stink of those rags back to Riverwood," said Hadvar.

"Thanks for the suggestion Hadvar, can you fill my bag while I'm at it?"

"Of course," agreed Hadvar. As Ralof and Hadvar gathered supplies for the journey ahead Ryuhei got behind the room's central column.

While the grown men were strapping on their fanny packs and stuffing them and Ryuhei's bag with potions, food and whatever coins they could find lying around, Ryuhei quickly stripped off his rags and eagerly proceeded to change into his new wardrobe. The pants and the cuirass itself slipped on relatively easy, though the chain-mail underneath the quilt layer didn't feel like it offered much freedom of mobility and he had to briefly struggle with fastening one of the belts around his waist. After he was dressed he ran over to his benefactors.

Hearing his footsteps, Hadvar and Ralof saw him fully dressed in the appropriated Stormcloak getup.

"A little big for you," commented Ralof. Ryuhei sneered with contradiction.

"Don't worry, I'll get used to it.

Got my pack stuffed Hadvar?"

"As much as this room could spare; a couple apples, a few potions, a loaf of bread, two wedges of cheese," Hadvar held another object in his hand for Ryuhei to see. "And a steel dagger with a matching sheath," he added.

"You'll also need these," said Ralof holding up two bows and quivers. "No one goes on an adventure without them," he commented and tossed them to both of Ryuhei and Hadvar.

After taking final note of inventory and strapping on their arrow quivers and sword belts the trio continued on their way.

Through the storage room's exit they came to a corner that turned right down a staircase, but stopped instantly when they heard a low feminine curse. Ralof's eyes widened at the sound, he seemed to recognize the voice. At that moment Ryuhei could have sworn he heard him mutter the name "Ingrid."

"Oh gods, the torture chamber," said Hadvar with dismay "Why does the Empire use these?" He turned to Ryuhei and Ralof, "The torturer, why of all times is he still here taking his sweet time with prisoners," asked a dismayed Hadvar.

"Probably loves his job too much or lacking in the common sense department," Ryuhei commented with a bit of disgust.

Ralof was beginning to doubt Hadvar.

"Got a plan for this Hadvar," Ralof asked with a trace of distrust.

"I'll get him out of way . . . whatever it takes."

Hadvar ran over to the torture chamber intent to pay the pass toll for his charges one way or another, while the latter two peeked from the adjacent corner and listened with anticipation.

* * *

Hadvar came to the torture chamber which had two support columns in the middle and three portable cells behind them. The third cell on the very right was empty, but the middle had to his horror and disgust, a very recently deceased occupant that was bleeding through every orifice on his face.

The cell to the left held a female stormcloak prisoner in it; the same owner of the voice that he heard making the impotent profanities from the hallway.

And too add to Hadvar's growing revulsion, standing in front of her cell clad in standard light leather imperial armor with a sinister-looking hood obscuring his pruned elderly face was Levus Vinipter: the torturer.

In the first five weeks he was stationed at Helgen, Hadvar had heard chilling rumors from his barrack mates about Vinipter and his brutal methods of "intel gathering" that were more creative when the conventional racking, spiked chair or "exsqueezing" was unavailable. Not only was he good at interrogating prisoners of war, he was most enthusiastic about breaking their minds and spirits to perverse levels that evoked extreme disgust from the Hadvar and his fellow nords in the imperial military, who by tradition and principal despised torture as the weapon of a coward.

He heard from soldiers that they saw the remains of tortured captives being carted out. Some had been horribly mutilated or dismembered; others stabbed in non-vital spots to cause a slow death from suffocation or blood loss, or administered a kind of "medicine" that turned their intestines to mush.

Those that survived, well . . . there wasn't much left, because the worst part about the torturer is that what made him effective at interrogations was that he never carried out his sadistic work on a victim unless there was a "captive audience" watching him perform his horrific acts of cruelty.

Doing so, badly traumatized prisoner's minds, stripped away their human dignity and pained them on an emotional level. And even when he got what he wanted out of the prisoners, he would only resume his sick hobby regardless until the captives were broken in any state of health, or mercifully dead.

Needless to say, Ryuhei's assumption was right; he loved his job too much to abandon it even when faced with more pressing matters such as siege.

"Vinipter," Hadvar shouted angrily. "Why are you fooling around with these prisoners, didn't you hear that Helgen is under attack!"

"Oh that explains those noises outside," Vinipter responded nonchalantly, infuriating Hadvar even more. "Forgive me for not noticing, I was really busy down here."

"You sick bastard son of a Thalmor bitch," cursed the female stormcloak. "Even General Tulius would not condone your conduct!"

Hadvar couldn't help shooting a glance of sympathy at the stormcloak woman. Tears of impotent rage were running down her cheeks, infuriated and anxious to ring her hands around the torturer's neck.

"Nevermind this stormcloak wench," Vinipter gestured to the female stormcloak prisoner. "She's just upset about how I was "entertaining" her friend."

"Forgot the prisoners, those noises you hear above mean you have to evacuate with everyone else before this place collapses on your head!"

"I appreciate your concern, but you sound a bit too hysterical, I don't believe those stormcloaks could've hauled catapults all the way up here just to lay siege to this tiny town. What calamity could be so cacophonous enough for you of all personnel in this town to suggest I must leave my work? I highly doubt the stormcloaks are behind it, so tell me honestly."

If Vinipter wasn't so drunk on his sadism and had any common sense, he would've taken Hadvar's advice and made himself scarce, but he was painfully short in that category and Hadvar's patience was also coming up dangerously short.

"Fine, here's the truth; it's a dragon that's tearing this place apart, you hear me a real dragon!"

"A dragon," scoffed Vinipter. "What kind of fool do you take me for to believe such nonsense?"

"A fool who lets his job obsession get himself killed, now GOOO before it's too late!"

Unfortunately the torturer wasn't having it. "Have you forgotten you're place boy, you're not the captain or of any superior rank to order me around, now be good soldier and do your duties while I do mine," Vinipter retorted to which Hadvar calmed down and slackened his face.

"As you wish, sir," relented Hadvar grudgingly.

"Glad to see you know your rank," Vinipter turned back to female stormcloak who was seething in indignant rage at him for poisoning her late comrade. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I believe I was at the part where . . . What are you smiling about?"

Much to Vinipter's surprise, the stormcloak woman's expression had gone from raging grief to a smug grin. What could she possibly be up to? "The part where get to know us nords deeper than your skin has informed, you senile old bastard."

Suddenly Vinipter felt an icy sensation injected right into his back. As soon as it had come he lost all sensation in his legs and arms and he crumpled forward to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

When they heard the sound of steel plunging into flesh Ralof and Ryuhei took it as their cue to see if Hadvar had secured their escape route. Rushing down the steps into torture room they relaxed with relief, none more so than Ralof.

Hadvar had stabbed the torturer right through the back just beneath his ribcage. It was shallow enough to let him live to feel it, but deep enough to guarantee he would never walk again.

"Perhaps you should've read your job description more thoroughly," Hadvar belittled Vinipter.

Vinipter the despised torturer left lying on his belly could only look back at Hadvar from his quadriplegic body with his head rotated left with shock and disbelief to see Hadvar holding a steel dagger coated and dripping with what was undoubtedly his blood.

"The point of being a torturer is to study the enemy up close and personal. If you had studied your allies first you'd have figured you'd face enemies on your own side, because for us nords torture is an excuse for a coward to spit on a warrior's courage!"

"That, I wholeheartedly agree to," commented Ralof as he and casually walked down the stairs as if he didn't acknowledge the crippled man at Hadvars feet, while Ryuhei followed close behind only slightly disturbed by the sight of the stabbed and paralyzed torturer who stared back with panicked contempt. "So, you've gone traitor, because you don't appreciate how I "gather" intelligence for the imperial legion!" "My fellow nords here in legion didn't like you any more than your prisoners. We'd been hoping for an opportunity like this, I'm just fortunate enough to claim it for myself." Hadvar kneeled forward and took the keys from Vinipter's belt. "Now then, if you'd be so kind for just this once, let me borrow this."

As Hadvar walked up to the left cell to free Ingrid the captive stormcloak, Ryuhei walked over to Vinipter's immobile form looking smugly amused at his predicament. "I'd like to borrow a few things too if you don't mind good sir, like those," he quipped as he gleefully relieved Vinipter of his leather gauntlets, much to the latter's tooth-grinding chagrin, "Oooh," and those," as he took his leather boots.

The imperial boots and gauntlets were of professional quality and were each adorned with a thick layer of leather plating to protect the wearer where he was statistically most likely to be struck.

"Give those back you stormcloak, brat! That is Imperial property! They'll have your head for that, if they don't hand you to me first!"

All the torturer earned for his impotent threats was a kick to the nose from Ryuhei. "Oh shut up," he gloated sarcastically "In that low position you won't be needing them. Shame we forgot to bring a wheelchair old timer," Ryuhei snickered mockingly. "Besides your "friends" are too busy playing "fire dodgeball" with the dragon upstairs to notice you need one, much less a new headsman since he wound up neck-first on the receiving end of his own axe."

He smiled at Vinipter rubbing in the folly of his poor choice to ignore the crisis above. He turned just in time to see Hadvar had unlocked and opened the cage with Ingrid who hugged Ralof with joy and relief. "Ingrid," Ralof sighed as he embraced his lover. I never doubted you were unbreakable as steel!"

"That's why you think I'm perfect for you." Once they released, Ingrid turned to the torturer responsible for breaking many a stormcloak's spirit, her eyes gleaming with vengeful sadism. She took a an iron dagger, lifted Vinipter's skirt, fauld and to her three present males' satisfaction and mild disgust plunged the dagger . . . right up "his!"

"AAAARRRRGGGH," Vinipter screamed with agony and embarrassment as tears cascaded down his cheeks as many an unfortunate prisoner had been forced to do on his insistence.

"I wish I could take my time for what you did to our comrades," she rasped with grim malice then reached for a potion vial with a colorless liquid.

"But a little medicine you gave my cellmate earlier should make me "feel" better." Ingrid flipped the torturer onto his back and the latter's eyes widened with horror at the vial in her hand as he realized what was coming to him.

* * *

Soon after the recently-formed, quartet left the torture chamber behind, the only sound more pleasant than the footsteps of Ryuhei's "new" boots was the satisfying echo of Vinipter the poor old sod of a torturer, coughing up his liquefying guts from a dose of his own "medicine."

After passing a narrow hallway and several corners they came to a room and cringed with disgust at the sight of what could only be called the torturer's personal lounge. They were filled with "crow-feeder" cages that held skeletons and only one recent corpse. Shrugging off the repugnant sight, Hadvar led them to an ambiguously chiseled open doorway in the wall that led to a cave underneath the barrack.

"You have a cave underneath here," asked Ryuhei.

"I told you you'd find more than a changing room down here," confirmed Hadvar. "This cave was discovered by accident when construction efforts were expanding the barracks for holding cells and accommodating the torturer's . . . "hobbies." Now it's used as an emergency escape tunnel."

"What a blessing, I'd be a fool not to accept it," said a grateful Ralof.

"But be careful," warned Hadvar. It may have more than a few unwanted "residents."

Walking through the tunnels they came to a cavern with an underground river studded with rocks and surrounded by walkways and connecting arch bridges with stairs ahead leading to the next tunnel and light pouring in from a hole in the ceiling that had tree roots hanging overhead, making the cavern look nice enough to install a spa.

They went through the tunnel and found themselves blocked by a drawbridge.

"How do propose we cross this path," asked still bad-tempered, Ingrid.

"Nothing to it, just a flip of a switch," said Hadvar as he lowered the drawbridge with said switch then they proceeded through the tunnel deeper into the cave.

They came to a cavern that overlooked the flow of the river, it was there that Hadvar stopped, "This it, as far as I can escort you, from here it should be smooth sailing. I must get back to the surface."

"What, why," asked Ryuhei. You saw what that dragon did to the city; you don't stand a chance in Oblivion against that thing.

"True," acknowledged Hadvar. "But the citizens need an escort out of the city more than you now. I'm afraid this is where we must part. I may have been allies with you and Ralof this day, but keep in mind him and I are on the opposing banners of this war."

Suddenly another rumbling occurred and the portal where the drawbridge had been was buried in tons of rock. "Heh, looks like the Nines beg to differ," Ralof quipped. Hadvar could only sigh with defeat.

After passing through the cavern to another natural hallway they came to a larger cavern with the same river flowing in from the first cavern and another cave hole lighting up a corner ahead.

As they drew closer they were stopped by an outstretched arm sign by Ingrid who had noticed that a "rock" in the lit area wasn't as inanimate they had assumed.

"It's a bear," whispered Ingrid. "We don't have time for another scuffle. Let's try sneaking by her, one at a time."

"Good idea," agreed Ryuhei. "My priority is to get in a nice comfy bed without stinking it with another stinking drop of sweat or blood."

In the typical rule of "ladies first," the men waited as Ingrid snuck past the sleeping bear first, followed by Ralof and then Hadvar, leaving Ryuhei as the last one eagerly waiting for their signal for his turn.

As he waited for the "go" signal for his turn something warm and wet dripped on Ryuhei's head. He wiped it out of his hair annoyed, but the liquid felt too sticky and oozy to be cave condensation. Instinctively, he looked up and gave a gasp of terror at what he saw above. An eight-legged silhouette nearly the size of a cow was hovering above him, a silhouette that was synonymous with a most primal fear. Ryuhei did the only logical thing possible he could on a moment's notice with his pent up breath.

Hadvar had just joined Ralof and Ingrid, all three relieved to be on the other side, but not enough as there was one member of their group left to wait on.

"Only Ryuhei is left," reminded Ralof. "If he can talk you two out of killing each other let's hope he's quiet enough to-."

"AAAARRRRGGHH!"

Ingrid was interrupted by a scream and all eyes turned to see the terrifying sight of the boy frantically struggling with a nightmare. It was a frostbite spider; one of the most intimidating creatures in Skyrim, creepy enough to leave many a seasoned adventurer unsettled, especially the arachnophobic.

It had tackled Ryuhei who had drawn his sword just in time to stab right at the creature's ridiculously oversized "bucktooth" mandibles giving him over a foot-length away from their sharp grooved points which were dripping their trademark venom. But the spider his sword arm with one of its front legs and with the boy's grip lost, his sword clattered uselessly to ground.

Quickly Hadvar drew and nocked an arrow from his quiver and pulled taut on the string, looking to inflict a brutal injury on the repulsive creature. Before Hadvar could shoot an arrow at the spider, they saw Ryuhei pull out another miracle in the palm of his hands, literally.

Just when the spider's fangs were about to sink into the flesh of the trapped human boy, a jet of flame spewed out of both his hands, the giant arachnid let a haunting screech of agony at the sudden burning pain and recoiled off its prey.

Hadvar, Ralof and (mostly) Ingrid watched amazed again, the latter who turned to Ralof quizzically. "You told me he was a fighter, not a mage."

"I did say he was full of surprises, and he might share some more," Ralof quipped back.

Hadvar was ready to shoot an arrow into the spider when suddenly they heard a roar and their eyes instinctively turned to the cave bear, now fully awake and very angry at its disturbed sleep. Hadvar switched targets and aimed his arrow towards the bear, but Ralof put a hand on his shoulder. "No need to waste an arrow," he said smugly. "Kynareth will happily solve this.

Ryuhei would probably never know beyond this most recent memory, but molestation and invitation to breakfast by a giant spider was likely the scariest moment in his life.

He was lucky he had "remembered" that fire spell just in the nick of time. With just a spray from his hands the spider found its prospective meal too "spicy."

The spider was screaming in searing agony and three of its eyes in the center of its head and the fourth on its left were roasted to permanent blindness. It rubbed its burnt eyes with its two front legs, but it only succeeded in aggravating their condition.

Ryuhei grinned with fear-turned excitement and was about to sink his recovered blade into the spider when he heard a low scratchy roar and turned to see a mass of fur with fangs and a bad temper charging right towards them. The spider turned and looked through its only remaining good eye just in time to see its angry neighbor pounce savagely upon it, biting and clawing at its underbelly.

Seeing the other cave predator he had been trying to avoid also had a grudge to settle against the horrid creature, he wisely decided to let bygones be bygones and ran towards his guardians who were eagerly waiting.

"What did I tell you, this cave had unwanted residents," said Hadvar

"A theory (pant) very well proven," panted an equally relieved Ryuhei.

"That last-minute spell of yours also helped," added Ralof. "Bears like to the scent of a well-served meal."

They instinctively turned back to their earlier spot on cue from cacophony of a familiar screech and roar just in time to see the cave bear overpower and flip the spider on its back where it mauled into its exposed underbelly.

The frostbite spider let out grotesque squeals of pain and desperation, vainly trying to kick the cave bear off with its eight legs as the latter savagely tore into its flesh, a blessing from Kynareth indeed.

Pleased to know who the victor was in this nature rumble and not wanting to overstay their welcome as an audience, the quadrio dashed away from the scene.

Following Hadvar they finally saw freedom shining upon them. It was the cave exit, shining like sapphire, almost like the Nine Divines were presenting a trophy to commemorate their escape. "This is it, the cave exit," said Hadvar.

"And the end of this crazy ride," added Ralof.

Ingrid was no less thrilled at the thought of seeing Riverwood. "I've been locked up like an animal for two days and I long for a warm fire with the scent of a well done side of beef wafting into my nose."

All four were relieved to be alive despite their animosity towards each other as they made for the cave exit, but the youngest member of the group was not as content.

The boy dubbed Ryuhei still did not remember who he was or his real name. He had no clue what force or reason had beckoned him to Skyrim or what he had to do with the most recent disaster to befall the town that would've been his final destination. But he promised himself and whatever friends and family he had yet to remember, he would reclaim his memories, even if it meant hacking and gutting open the entire province of Skyrim!

 _ **Next chapter will be a story arc revolving around Riverwood and Bleak Falls Barrow. There ye be introduced to several OCs that will make up the main cast. And believe we it will be interesting. R &R my fellow adventurers.**_


	4. Author's Note: Incoming Story Arc

**Author's note: Introduction to Bleak Falls Barrow Arc**

 **Sorry I took so long, but life kept me occupied with a helping of writer's block. I've been working on a short story that is bound to become a thing in a magazine. On the bright side I've been improving my writing style and hope this chapter has better flow than the last two. Needless to say I did some tweaks with the first few chapters, especially in case any of you had the wrong idea about my character. This is the beginning of an Arc where Ryuhei begins to discover his power and meets two of the more "permanent," members of his party. Hadvar, Ralof and Ingrid (Ralof's girlfriend) will go their separate ways by the end of the arc.**

 **PS, if this fic needed an opening theme it would be "Where Truth Lies," performed by Exchange (hell they composed nearly all the music for the cartoon). Very fitting since Ryuhei is trying to find the truth about his identity as well as his connection to the two dragons he encountered in Helgen and his dream.**

 **Where the Truth Lies is the opening theme to The Legend of Prince Valiant," an early 90s, low fantasy, cartoon adaptation of the newspaper comic of the same name. I've watched over a dozen episodes of Prince Valiant and it's awesome, like the family friendly anti-thesis to Game of Thrones. I recommend you watch it.**

 **Until then see ya next time.**


	5. Chapter 3: Forest Trek

**Chapter 3: Bleak Falls Barrow Arc: Part 1: Forest Trek**

 **Author's Note: The great thing about fanfics is adding your own seasonings to the status quo. As a heads up, I'm going with a realistic geography such as miles/distance and new towns. From here on, not only will I introduce new spells and characters, but also new locations to give Skyrim more depth. R &R knaves.**

 **Exchange – "Where the Truth Lies"**

The light of the cave entrance faded and all four travelers were greeted with a beautiful landscape of pine trees and a mountain in the distance.

Ryuhei took a deep breath savoring the minty air; "Freedom always feels better when you can smell it."

Suddenly he heard a familiar roar. "Behind the rock," yelled Hadvar. Everyone promptly took cover behind a boulder to their left and watched as the dragon emerged from behind the mountainside they had exited and soared northeast of the distant mountain until it faded into the distance.

"Phew," Ryuhei felt relief but not so much with the others.

"So you were not jesting, there is a dragon," said Ingrid after a gasp.

"It's flying northeast, that's where Whiterun is," said Ralof

Hadvar was no less worried. "If it's done with Helgen then Whiterun might be . . ."

"Shouldn't we be worried about ourselves first?" asked Ryuhei. As far as I know were the only live witnesses for miles. And first thing to do is get to the nearest inn and tell drunken tales about how Skyrim is doomed!"

"You should be more worried about the journey ahead," added Ralof. "The nearest inn is about seventy miles from here."

"What," Ryuhei's eyelids flung wide open. "Seventy miles, that's like eternity!"

Then Hadvar, Ralof and Ingrid began to laugh.

"Get serious will you?! A walk that long is not funny!"

"No, but your reaction is Imperial," answered Ingrid who continued laughing, further incensing Ryuhei's anxious state.

"Enough with the horse crap, let's make tracks while there's still daylight!"

"My, my, it must have slipped my mind; the nearest inn is actually _forty_ miles away!"

"What, are you pulling my chain again Ralof, right after you helped take it off?"

"No seriously, I just remembered, a new village was established seven years ago. They call it eh . . . oh yes, Pine Crossing."

"Pine Crossing," Ryuhei asked. Where did they get that name?"

"Because of all the pine trees and it's close to the intersection on the road between Falkreath and Riverwood, hence the name," Hadvar answered.

Hadvar continued to explain. "Lumber is the biggest export in this region and Pine Crossing was built to fill demands for more lumber, not to mention a place for weary travelers . . . like us." Then Hadvar interjected. "Pine Crossing will be a very nice place for you to stay for a while Ryuhewey." He still had trouble cleanly pronouncing the latter's name.

"Well why don't you all do as I insisted earlier over your laughing, so I can enjoy that hospitality you brag about, before I remember that I'm a prince or a duke and have you all water boarded for inconveniencing me."

"I have to agree with him Ralof, that dragon might come back to finish off survivors," advised Hadvar.

Ralof was still amused, "You're still a long way from his castle, but nevertheless," he semi-bowed and angled both arms till they pointed behind him in a "this way sir" gesture. "Off we go, " _my lord_."

"He'd make a decent court jester," Ryuhei sarcastically muttered to himself. "Well, can't blame him after what we just lived through."

As they started to walk Hadvar patted Ryuhei on the shoulder.

"I suppose I should thank you again my young friend."

"Again, for what," asked Ryuhei.

"For giving me courage to defy my repugnant superior, never did I feel so brave enough to do the right thing in the face of corrupt authority."

"Feel no shame of it, if it felt right, it was right."

 **Ocarina of Time OST Remix – Hyrule Field**

After walking for five hours the quartet had decided to sit down and have little snack, of bread cheese and any fruits and veggies they had brought with them.

Ryuhei gave his situation some thought, "Ok, recap; I've woke up in Skyrim, damn near lost my at the behest of a snobby militarist bitch and the breath of a dragon andstuck with three unlikely companions who under normal circumstances would lay covered in each other's blood or one limb short. On top of all that I don't even know who I am. The silence might be broken with swords if I don't break it with words. I am the only thing keeping it together for us."

With this in mind he decided to strike up a conversation.

"You know since we were too busy trying to get away from Helgen, I think it's time I know everyone better, just as much as I'm legally entitled. We didn't properly get acquainted . . . execution and the dragon happening and all that. I call myself Ryuhei as it is all I can remember, courtesy of Hadvar's friends." To add emphasis, he rapped his knuckle on the side of his skull where he'd been hit.

"My apologies, for their actions, but war is liable to make one rash, especially in the heat of battle," said Hadvar.

"In retrospect I think it is a blessing you do not know yourself," Ralof butted in. "From those surprise talents of yours not to mention those regal looks many a youth would barter with Clavicus to possess, you struck me as someone very important, and your amnesia makes it easier to deny."

"Or a clever compulsive con artist who knows how to play your heartstrings like a lyre," added Ingrid.

"Good point, now I'd like to know about you three, starting with you Hadvar."

"Well then, where to start? I was born in Riverwood with my father Jengruuf and mother Liedil."

"I knew it, you and Ralof were friends, it explains why you didn't stab each other immediately," exclaimed Ryuhei.

"Very quick," confirmed Hadvar. In fact you're right Ralof and I were childhood friends, until we reached our late teens, and my family and a good portion of townsfolk from Riverwood and nearby villages set out to establish our current destination: Pine Crossing."

"That's all I need to know," said Ryuhei. "What of you Ralof?"

"I was born to my father Sogrenar and mother Fanaala. I grew up with Hadvar like he said and stayed in Riverwood after he moved to Pine Crossing, but we were blessed with fond childhood memories, like the time when were eight, I stuffed a fish down his pants!"

Ryuhei and Ingrid snickered, Hadvar not so much.

"He ran around like a headless chick-"

"Ralof!" Hadvar interrupted indignantly. "You promised never to spill that!"

"Sorry Hadvar, I guess childhood promises are like thin ice; easy to break." patronized Ralof.

Ryuhei cupped his mouth as he smothered his laughter at the delectable development, "As if the war wasn't the only reason for them to kill each other," he mused.

Ryuhei then turned to Ingrid who begun sharpening the arrows that had been appropriated from Helgen's barracks.

"Excuse, me Ingrid," he asked.

Ingrid looked at him, but didn't say a word.

Ryuhei sweat dropped at the awkwardness, "Though I'm of Imperial kin as Hadvar has spoken; I bear no ill will towards you Stormcloaks nor do I regard the politics of this land, would you tell me about yourself. Ingrid still remained silent, giving Ryuhei a contemptuous stare in an ice queen-like way.

"Mind Ingrid, she's not open to strangers especially since she's in the company of Imperials. Besides someone agreed to know as much as he was _legally_ entitled to." Ralof answered for him.

"Well wise of her not to be in a talkative mood, being in the company of an erstwhile enemy soldier and a stranger," said Ryuhei.

"Wise indeed, but I can tell that everyone in this hold knows she comes from a long line of hunters," gleefully stated Ralof.

"And I'm quite proud of it," added Ingrid.

More blessings from the Nines to you," Ryuhei credited.

"Don't bother with flattery boy." scorned Ingrid. "That won't make friends of everyone, especially a Nord."

Ryuhei didn't bother with another word, Ralof did that for him.

"Ingrid, no need to so cold to the boy, I know you don't trust an Imperial, soldier or not, but I can assure you he is no friend of the Legion. He was stuffed with us onto the same wagon train bound for Helgen. Under the garrison captain's orders he was supposed to be executed on charges of "spying." assured Ralof trying to open Ingrid's cold exterior.

Ryuhei went on, "Don't worry about the captain, she didn't make it very far when the dragon attacked. I saw to it, personally. But with that bitch of a captain "Cuntus" dead-"

"Pundus," corrected Hadvar, though he snickered amusedly feeling the accidently, derogatory name more suitable.

"You Imperials have a good reason to have my head delivered on a platter now," finished Ryuhei.

"Nothing to worry about," assured Hadvar, "remember we didn't see a thing . . . sincerely."

"From you being a silent witness, I take it the captain was about as likable as that old coot in the dungeons, which he ran like a macabre playroom?" half-asked Ryuhei.

"Damn right," agreed Ingrid with satisfaction. "I'm most grateful I was able to give him a dose of his own medicine and knowing he spent his last breath choking on his own organs as they melted like ice placed in Hammerfell.

"In fact both were as likeable as an ogre that uses man's corpse for latrines," added Hadvar.

"Eeew," gagged Ryuhei. "No need to exaggerate!"

"Exaggeration, hardly," corrected Hadvar. "If you were a soldier like me stationed there, you'd get an earful of insults without the slightest hint of disguised encouragement you'd hear from a respectable drill sergeant. You'd also receive meager rations below Imperial military standards, not mention be the butt of hazing if you were a new recruit. It was more like a prison than a garrison and the Captain would fare better as a Warden." And don't get started on the horrible rumors I heard about the torturer."

"I'm sure you can figure out other repulsive details boy," added Ralof. "I gave you a _very_ good hint to that when the Imperials gave us a "free" ride.

Ryuhei grimaced, "Don't remind me, I'd sooner die than be "used" in the barracks by ugly brutes. I'm straight as an arrow."

"Then maybe you'd rather get the executioner's axe" snickered Ralof. "Find that a more preferable fate boy?"

"Funny," Ryuhei sarcastically remarked, I could ask you the same thing, if you're done cracking about my predicament back there. For your sake, I'd best not remember if I am some prince or duke, or you'll lose something _more_ preciousthan your head."

Ralof snickered with sarcasm at Ryuhei's threat, "Point very well taken, "my Lord."

"In the meantime," advised Ralof, "Think about what kind of living you could make in Skyrim, namely a mercenary or a wizard. Once you become rich and famous you can find some pretty woman who is much to your liking. Given those embarrassingly good looks of yours, you'd have no trouble finding the perfect wife."

"Just try not to call too much attention from the female population, added Hadvar, "You could spark a war even crazier than what we have now."

Ryuhei snickered at Hadvar's comment. The idea of a free-for all war exclusively fought by women solely for his affections was both hilarious and awkward.

Ingrid abruptly cut in, "If us Nord women are too tough for you to handle, you can reel in a pretty, Bosmer maiden with a bouquet and whisk her off to Cyrodiil, or better yet Hammerfell, one less _elf_ in Skyrim the better!"

Ryuhei sensed the distaste in her tone of voice upon the subject of elves. The way she said "elf" sounded like the word made her think of skeever litter. "What's your problem with elves?"

"What is my problem with elves? What is everyone's problem with elves?" Ingrid scoffed at his perceived, stupid question forgetting his amnesia. Ask any Nord you come across, they'll give you enough answers to fill a tome!"

Ryuhei looked back to when he was brought to Helgen on a wagon train and the conversation General Tulius had with those "Thalmor." "I'll remember to ask one later," he said. It would be better not to complicate things with more questions; he'd learn more on his own later.

"First Imperials like me and now elves," Ryuhei thought. "I should be careful with Nords, they have serious problems, especially withstrangers not of their kin."

After their snack they resumed their trek and went walked another seven miles. The frost bitten residue of the mountains left behind. The four travelers were enjoying the serene atmosphere and the fresh minty scent.

Suddenly Ralof who was ahead held his hand out for them to stop. They stopped in their tracks, wondering what had Ralof on edge. The latter began sniffing uncomfortably. The group also noticed that the area around them was too quiet. Not so much as a squirrel, a bird or any creature was stirring.

"Do you smell that," Ralof asked.

"Smell what," Ryuhei asked.

"Take a whiff, boy, a rotten stench taints the air" Ingrid was getting apprehensive too.

"Ryuhei took a deep breath and soon enough smelled something that reeked of both sour and mildew wafting into his nose.

"Eeeww," Hadvar commented, "somehow I know none of us smell that bad, despite our lack of opportunity to practice hygiene."

"Of course, even our pretty-faced Imperial friend here was allowed to stay cleaner," added Ingrid snidely.

"Hey, no need to be jealous," snapped Ryuhei.

"Keep it together," Hadvar whispered assertively.

Ralof then smiled and faced Ryuhei, "Ready for your first lesson about living in Skyrim, boy?"

"Sure, what might it be," Ryuhei asked.

"The only good thing about skipping baths or laundry, . . . IS THAT YOU CAN SMELL HIGHWAYMEN A MILE OFF!"

As if summoned by Ralof's words, the bushes around them rustled and a group of a dozen men ranging from burly to scrawny emerged. Within an eye blink they had completely surrounded the quartet.

Most members of the bandits who were Nords and wore very "barbarian" quality leather armor that didn't provide full coverage. Their armor (if it qualified as armor) resembled tunics consisting primarily of leather and fur with "X-shaped" straps connected by a circular steel stud over the sternum and knee-length faulds over the fur. The few bandits that weren't Nords wore more sensible fur armor, including their leader.

Their leader was a light, brown-furred, Khajiit with one-eye short as evidenced by the patch where his left eye used to be. He wore better made fur armor with troll skulls on the shoulders and a ribcage over the chest plate.

"This one is impressed; the yellow-headed one can smell stinky arm pits from thirty-feet away." He then turned to one of the more burly bandits, a portly, brown-haired Nord who stood out with the help of his uncut hair that reached his waist and the dopey look in his eyes, "What does that say about your hygiene, Loligo?"

"Whaaa . . ." Loligo mumbled stupidly, "I thought wash day wasn't till tomorrow, Loligo."

The bandits chuckled at Loligo's mental deficiency at forgetting basic healthcare and his retarded verbal tic. "Why aren't we surprised you got the schedule mixed up?"

"This is an interesting catch we got today," commented one of the bandits, "Three Stormcloaks and an Imperial. I'm sure the local Imperial garrison would pay a bag of sixty-pounds worth of gold for prisoners of war."

Another bandit piped in, "They even have something nice, a cute, ginger damsel."

Ryuhei scowled with disgust at the bandit's faulty observation, "I'm a man you morons, does looking pretty always means I am of the fairer sex!?"

Every bandit's jaw practically dropped while others retched in disgust at the shattering of their lewd fantasies.

"What, by the eights?" exclaimed a bandit.

"You telling me she is a he?"

"We've been bamboozled."

"Oh, fear not boys," the Khajiit assured. "There is plenty of "pleasurable company" elsewhere. Besides, there can be more gold in just one prisoner for the right kind of buyer, than three combined." He grinned.

Ryuhei sweated nervously, one prisoner, he did not like what the Khajiit was implying. "What manner of obtaining gold with just one prisoner are you proposing?"

"Something that will be beneficial to us all boy, here's the deal why don't you come with us to Solstheim, it has better hospitality than those backwoods yokels at the nearest town have to offer. And if you haven't been up to date with the news, the poor High King's wife was widowed recently. As a "good citizen" of Skyrim you could serve your newly crowned, High Queen and "warm" her broken heart. It would be a great honor."

"You won't regret it boy," cut-in a bearded, bandit. "You'll be living in a castle tending to the needs of her beautiful highness, _all_ of them."

"Yea," another bandit snickered in agreement. "You'll be the luckiest lad in Skyrim, with her husband six feet under, she could really use some "late-night company." The bandits snickered at their comments, much to Ryuhei's disapproval.

"That sounds like a nice proposition," said Ryuhei. "But I'd rather deliver myself in mint condition than accidently smuggle," he pinched his nose and waved his hand in defense against their retarded companion's vile scent, "whatever "contraband" you're carrying, lest we'd all be sharing a fancy cell."

The bandits sneered at Ryuhei's comment, but came back at him. "You wouldn't make it more than a few steps far without our "help," girly boy, said another bandit.

"Yea, heh, heh, you'd be dinner for wolves and trolls."

Ryuhei remained adamant "Pity I find them more preferable and cleaner company to you."

The Khajiit head bandit however narrowed his eyes threateningly, "Now, now there pretty boy, you think you're the only one with travel issues?" He nodded, and Ryuhei instinctively turned to look behind him.

Hadvar, Ingrid and Ralof were held at sword point, the only defense they had was their own weapons held in defense for a fight if it came to a last stand.

Ryuhei knew they couldn't simply fight their way out of this, they were outnumbered and caught in a pincer. One false move and the bandits would close their pincer and impale them. He turned to face the Khajiit.

"Here's the deal, you come with us quietly to Solstheim, your friends get to go there merry way. Refuse, you come with us, and your friends will "decorate" this road."

"No you can't!" yelled Hadvar in protest.

Ryuhei looked back, "Don't worry," you three have done more than enough for me to last a lifetime. And the gods will reward you indeed for it."

Ryuhei slowly walked up to the Khajiit bandit leader whose eyes gleamed with greed, visualizing him as pile of money bags walking straight up to him.

"Alright," said Ryuhei with strong conviction, "Remember, you honor your end, I honor mine. They go there way, alive and unspoiled. And I go yours in the same condition; and you keep your foul-smelling friends a reasonable distance, in return I won't so much as fuss."

"Pretty fancy speech there boy, I can't disagree to your set conditions. You have a bright future at the High Queen's side. So, do we have a deal," the Khajiit bandit snickered.

"Deal," said Ryuhei and he held his right hand out for a shake, but as the Khajiit leader raised his in return Ryuhei added, "A very "hot" deal."

Suddenly without warning, a jet of flames burst out of Ryuhei's right hand. The flames leapt onto the Khajiit's left arm.

"Eyaaaarrgh! What in Oblivion-," the Khajiit shrieked. He flopped on the ground and rolled desperately trying to put out the fire and save his fur.

Ryuhei then spread both hands and unleashed a dual jet of flames in a ninety-degree arc lighting more bandits on fire.

"Yeeeeoooooww!"

"Horse dung, I'm on fire!"

"Aaaargh," put it out, put it out!"

Hot, hot, hot Loligo!"

It was cacophonic chaos. The firey revelation that their prospective money ticket had magic skill left the bandits shocked and in disarray. The bandits victimized by Ryuhei's flames tried to put the fire out by patting it or just stopping, dropping and rolling.

Hadvar and Ralof readied their weapons and Ingrid drew a steel dagger, but there was no need for a fight. To their surprise, instead of engaging in a sword fight the bandits who had held them rushed to their burning comrades with water flasks and doused the flames, starting with their feline leader. Others who sought to conserve their water for ingesting or had none to spare opted to help pat the flames down.

Speaking of the Khajiit ringleader the fire on his arm was put out, his mitten-like fur gauntlet took the worst of Ryuhei's flame spell, but the fur on the arm would need a shave.

The Kahjiit was certainly not taking chances of follicle damage to his fur. The Khajiit looked back at a smiling smugly Ryuhei, "He's a sorcerer, let's get out of here, go, go, go, NOW!"

The bandits didn't hesitate or protest and ran back into the woods.

Ralof was chuckling with relief, "Once again you've gotten us out of a jam pretty boy, we got out of the frying pan and even the fire" said Ralof.

"No need to thank me, this feels like a running gag already," said Ryuhei.

"Never have I seen bandits run with their tails between their legs. Who'd have thought a little fire play is all it takes to make brigands flee like rats from a flash flood, the cowards!" mocked Ingrid.

"More like smart thinking on their part, obviously they didn't anticipate dealing with a sorcerer. I'd do the same in their place if I didn't bring arrows." Hadvar added.

I think there's more to it," noted Ryuhei, "I looked into that cat's one remaining eye, he looked terrifified. I have a gut feeling this isn't the first time he ran afoul of a magical practitioner, and the encounter wasn't as tame."

"As if there weren't enough problems on our plate; first a dragon on a rampage then bandits lurking in southeast Falkreath," complained Hadvar. "We've got to alert the town guards once we get to Pine Crossing."

"No need to rush," assured Ryuhei. "Those crooks strike me as small-timers, not worth hunting down. With best of luck, they'll be licking their wounds in the nearest tavern and rethinking their lives."

"I agree those fools are rank amateurs," said Ingrid.

"Well we're safe again and that's all that matters," said Ralof.

"Now we can get one step closer to that hospitality you were boasting about Hadvar," sighed an impatient Ryuhei.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Five more hours after getting inconvenienced by the bandit gang the quartet had finally come to a split in the road with a direction sign with three arrow boards. On one of them was "Pine Crossing."

Ryuhei however took a look at the sky, "Sun's setting, we won't get there before dark."

"Then we'll set up camp here," advised Ingrid. "Being near a direction sign is as good a place as anywhere."

The quartet began unpacking their supplies from Helgen's fortress.

Ryuhei was surprised at how well Hadvar and Ralof had thought out their trip with the supplies they had brought with them. "Wow you even brought sleeping bags even an extra for Ingrid!"

"Indeed it was a last minute decision to say the least, I had a strong feeling we wouldn't be the only refugees escaping Helgen. Of course I didn't expect to be one myself.

Suddenly Ryuhei felt a rumbling in his stomach accompanied by a groaning sound.

Ryuhei frowned indignantly.

Hadvar in return smiled shamefully. "My apologies, but the barracks we took our supplies from had no fresh food to speak of; the kind that keeps warriors primed for battle."

"Don't despair just yet, "cut-in Ralof. Remember the best hunter we have for miles around?" Ralof motioned towards Ingrid who had a hunting bow in hand and a full quiver on her back.

"And yours truly is going to fetch us supper," said Ingrid. "If you want to be sure we get a full stomach I'll need an extra pair of eyes, ears and arms to properly carve the meat. I hope you're not afraid to get your pretty face bloody, aren't you boy?"

"Not at all, ask the Captain back at Helgen, or what's left."

Ryuhei then turned to the other two men in their band, "Hadvar, Ralof, I volunteer going with Ingrid as an extra spotter. I'm sure you two will get along, nicely while in our absence, you are friends like you told me, right?" Hadvar and Ralof sweated at Ryuhei's sneer and suspicious gaze.

"Nothing to worry about, the truce still stands," Hadvar assured nervously.

"Everything between us is as cool as the mountains stay frozen," Ralof finished.

Ryuhei took the metaphorical halos on both men's heads not with one grain, but the entire salt shaker.

Ryuhei walked up to Ingrid." Any problem with me tagging along, Ingrid? I know you're not exactly fond of me, but I can't think of a better incentive for those two not to get into a drunken fight if two people they care about would come back disappointed."

"You're a smart lad, but remember I only trust you enough to not put us in danger, you clearly wouldn't last a day in these woods."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Look," Ryuhei whispered and pointed ninety degrees to his left.

"A deer, what a perfect setup!" Ingrid exclaimed in a tense whisper. "Down boy!" she commanded.

Ryuhei crouched down slowly onto his belly. He watched with rapt attention as Ingrid nocked an arrow onto her bow and pulled it taught. He waited while holding a deep breath of suspense, steeling himself for the fierce inevitable twang and whistle of death. An eternity passed and finally . . . THOOMP!

A whistle threaded through the air, the deer screamed like a rusty iron groan channeled through a wooden flute and collapsed to the ground never to move again.

Ingrid and Ryuhei rushed to deer's carcass.

Ingrid removed her arrow from where the deer's heart used to be and wiped the blood off the iron arrow with the dead deer's fur before putting it back in her quiver.

"Hurry, lets take the rear hind legs, that will stuff us for the night. She took one of Ralof's iron axes whom the latter had lent to her for carving.

Ryuhei had also been lent the second of iron axe.

Each grabbed a rear hind leg and held it outstretched with their axes raised. "Read to get bloody boy," instructed Ingrid.

Ryuhei nodded "yes."

"Alright one, two, three, NOW!" The air was filled with a rhapsody of wet crunches and squelches as Ryuhei and Ingrid chopped hard on the deer legs eager for their edible amputation.

As Ryuhei chopped a pang of conscience screamed at Ryuhei to stop, begging him to let the carcass of this poor fallen creature rest in one piece. But he ignored it and kept chopping, until finally the deer's leg came off. Ryuhei slung the leg over his shoulder, the amputated stump dripping blood profusely. He looked up seeing Ingrid dipping her deer leg in a small running river, washing away the blood. Following suite he dipped the stump of his deer leg in the river.

Ingrid noticed this, "Smart of you to do as the Nords do boy, especially in the wilderness, however . . ."

"However what?" Ryuhei asked.

"You wouldn't happen to know why it's wise to drain the blood of your kill?"

"Wouldn't want to smell bad."

"Close but why would you not want to smell bad out here where there's next to no one to complain about it?"

"I don't know, why would I."

"Because," Ingrid added coldly, " while a bad smell can repel company it can attract another kind of company . . . rather unwanted company."

"What kind of unwanted company," suddenly they heard a chorus of low howls, "oh, that company." Ryuhei's question was answered for him.

"And it's about to demand its portion of our dinner," added Ingrid as they turned in the direction of the howling.

Ryuhei looked in her line of sight and on the other side of the river he saw a pack of around six wolves, their eyes glowing in the twilight dark as if to highlight their demonic appetite.

"Back away . . . real slow," cautioned Ingrid.

Hefting his deer leg over his shoulder Ryuhei in step with Ingrid shuffled backwards as not to provoke the wolves into attacking them. With each step they took the wolves stalked closer. Once they were two dozen steps away, the wolves lunged violently upon the carcass. It was a cacophony of snarls, chomps and slurps as they ripped and tore the deer remains apart. Ryuhei could see the flesh torn off like pages in a book, exposing bones, sinew and organs. It disturbed him to watch the wolves devour the deer remains with such chilling nonchalance, nature was scary indeed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"See it was I who sent Jorgen packing with that right hook to his gut," boasted Hadvar.

"And I gave him the bloody nose that brought him to tears and shame."

"Oh come on Ralof admit it, I'm the one who kicked his ass so hard he never picked on us again."

"And I kicked his balls so hard he never grew new ones to pick on anyone ever again, technically speaking."

Just as Hadvar was about to make a comeback . . . "You sure get along when left to your own craft. Did you find anything you two disagree on while were fetching dinner?"

Hadvar and Ralof turned nervous shade of blue knowing the owner of that voice. They could see Ryuhei with his hands on his sides, a smug grin plastered on his face with Ingrid standing next to him giving them the same accusing stare.

"(Simultaneously)Well, uhh . . ."

Ryuhei looked at the freshly built fireplace the two men had made using rocks as the barrier and sticks and pine needles as fuel, "I see you got the proper materials to keep the fire going hot, the only fire we need burning right now!"

"Indeed," added Ingrid, "because were having roast deer leg tonight!"

"Well then, work your magic pretty boy, can't have dinner without a cook," said Ralof

"One pair of roast drumsticks coming right up," smirking Ryuhei got into a martial arts stance that felt natural to him and with a single palm punch aimed sent out a big burst of magical fire at the makeshift fireplace. The fire burst was bigger than he had intended and not only lit the fire the tongues licked dangerously close to Hadvar and Ralof's feet.

"Whoah!" both Hadvar and Ralof recoiled in surprise. "Careful with that we could've both ended up well-served on tonight's menu!" shouted Hadvar.

"Magic isn't a toy boy!" added Ralof.

"Oops sorry," blushed an embarrassed Ryuhei. "Didn't know my own magicka was that strong,"

"Well practice it till you know it, then you won't accidentally burn someone!" Hadvar panted.

"All right I'm calm, (Ryuhei muttering to himself) let's do this nice and easy." Facing away from his fellow refugees Ryuhei focused magicka into his left hand this time with less zest than before. Another blazing flame came out, this time it was smaller more regulated and less fierce. "Well," he turned to face the others and grinned for his stroked ego, " looks like we won't have to wait long till dinner."

"Well then, best start cooking now," Ingrid held up both freshly skinned deer leg's, raw and ripe for the barbecue."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In less than thirty minutes thanks to Ryuhei's careful control of his flames and Hadvar thinking hard with inventory, the meat was well roasted and seasoned. To say dinner was delicious was an understatement for Ryuhei, it was more like a feeding frenzy, ravenously chomping through his portion like the wolves he witnessed earlier. He never realized how much of an appetite you can get from escaping the jaws of doom pretty much all day. It helped that Hadvar had brought salt and garlic seasoning to sweeten the meat.

Afterwards the quartet had gotten out the sleeping sacks and were now snuggling in.

Ralof and Ingrid were deep asleep, probably getting a pleasant visit from Vaermina, the Daedric prince of dreams. Ryuhei and Hadvar were still quite awake but would join them soon enough, but not quite yet.

"Hadvar, I must know, why is there a war going on in Skyrim?"

Hadvar let out a depressed sigh, "Ever since the Great War between the Empire and the supremacists of the Aldmeri Dominion ended in a stalemate and the signing of the so-called "peace treaty" many a citizen of the Empire felt betrayed, as if they had been prostituted to the enemy."

"Whatever this peace treaty implies I doubt the folks were comfortable with it."

"Indeed they weren't. The treaty known as the White-Gold Concordant had two terrible terms, the first was to ban the worship off Talos, the second gave the Dominion the right to scour Tamriel, hunt down Talos worshippers and any opposition to their rule with impunity. Those arrested by their dreaded Justicars are likely never heard from again. No nation hated it more than Hammerfell and Skyrim. In retribution for this perceived betrayal, Hammerfell broke off from the Empire and Skyrim is trying the same, that is the point of this war."

"So this is why Ingrid has it in for elves if not everyone," Ryuhei thought, "Blaming the many for the actions a few."

"Hadvar . . . I dare not imagine myself in your uniform, forced to condemn one's own people to death, even though your erstwhile enemy."

"That is the price that must be paid for keeping the Empire together, and were not letting the Thalmor trample over us forever. Me and my fellow Imperials respect the Stormcloaks aren't comfortable with an Emperor who leaves his people at the mercy of despots, and feel justified in having Skyrim independent. But the Empire must remain united under this brief moment of peace, even if we have to grovel at the feet of elves for a while. Better to offer your enemy one hand in friendship with a dagger to stab them in the other. But I couldn't agree more, it hurts for us Nords to kill our own brothers and sisters, it's a hard potion to swallow."

"Doesn't help that you had an overbearing bitch of a boss fond of passing out arbitrary death sentences," Ryuhei added.

"Indeed, our Nord heritage is partly the reason she mistreated those under her command."

"By the way when Ralof I were brought to Helgen we saw General Tulius speaking to several Altmer near the gates. Ralof called them Thalmor. What are they and what do they have to do with the war?"

They're the ones controlling the Aldmeri Dominion, and the reason for the darkness that has fallen upon Tamriel. Their goal seems nothing short of dominating everything they see before them even other elves that are not considered "pure," by their unreasonable standards. They didn't bother asking the wood elves of Valenwood to join their country club "nicely" they say. If you want to know the extent of how "high" a high elf's ego can get, the Thalmor can answer that for you with utmost, heinous pleasure."

"I think they already have from what I've just been through, bitchy "ex-captain" of yours notwithstanding. By the way," Ryuhei added. "Let me make it clear, that I don't intend to take any side in this war. All I care about is finding out who I am."

"Good idea," agreed Hadvar. "I'd hate for such a good deed of mine to be punished anyway."

"I'm glad my presence was enough to keep you and Ralof from killing each other back at Helgen, or that dragon would've arranged that for both of you."

"We all owe you for helping us get this far and if gods willing we'll make it the rest of the way."

"Well best sleep off the anxiety."

" Then I believe it's goodnight then."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Ryuhei shut his eyes his mind drifted back towards the most recent events in memory. Skyrim was in danger; a Dragon had destroyed the very town where he had been unjustly sentenced to death, and he had narrowly survived the destruction of Helgen and the wrath of its arrogant, overbearing captain. Of course he couldn't have made it without the help of three star-crossed soldiers nor would they have put aside their differences to save an innocent life.

"Suppose looks are good for something," he thought. "But still, who am I, where did I come from, who taught me those moves I used on that captain bitch back at Helgen, including that magical sword strike . . . that shut her up? What force has beckoned me to Skyrim? Am I a runaway noble like Hadvar suggested? And those dragons the one that utterly pulverized Helgen and that ghostly one that saved the three of us . . . it's too good to be a coincidence with the dream I had."

So many questions flooded the boy's mind as sleep tightened its grasp on him. His last thought before embracing unconsciousness was the hope that the same nightmare wouldn't plague his dreams.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Morning came quickly and the Helgen quartet rose at first light. With a good head start they resumed their trek towards Pine Crossing.

"You'll really like it there Ryuhei," said Hadvar getting the exotic pronunciation of his name down better. "In fact I think you'll want to stay a long time. The village chief there is Jengruuf Ulfrisson, my father. He'll give you a royal welcome and a fine meal to die for, malt beer if you're of drinking age, ripe meat off the bone and delicious sweet rolls for dessert."

Ryuhei's mouth watered and his eyes beamed at the mention of sweet roll. An imaginary sensation of an iced, cinnamon taste coated his tongue. "Sweet rolls," he exclaimed. That does sound tasty; in fact I can already taste it without it actually being in my mouth."

Indeed something did click in his mind. If he had a taste of an actual sweet roll it'd be another piece to add to his vast mental puzzle and he grew anxious to get to civilization.

They made their way across the path and rounded a corner of trees. "This is my home, and they humbly call it a lumber mill, a lumber mill. Welcome to Pine Cross- . . ." Hadvar suddenly droned off.

Once they passed the trees into the clear, their eyes widened and their mouths were agape. The sight in front of them was not of inviting hospitality, but a sight of utter horror.

For an eternity they stood there in shock trying to comprehend if what they were seeing was real until Ryuhei broke the silence, "This is no mill . . . it's a graveyard."


End file.
